A Crime of Passion
by Demona3870
Summary: Bob's time in the web comes back to haunt him. Set between Season 3 and Season 4, this is an interpretation of Dot's shift in attitude towards Bob and their relationship. Rated for adult themes, violence, and minor language.
1. Doubts

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in ReBoot. The only claim I have on characters are ones that come into play in later chapters. I am making no money off of this, but am enjoying borrowing the characters for a short time._

_Note: This story takes place between the end of Season 3 and the beginning of Season 4. It will have adult themes and angsty situations and will not have the normal humor and light heartedness of the show as it explores darker undertones in the characters. If this is not for you, you may want to choose another ReBoot fan fiction to enjoy. _

_The ReBoot Timeline used in this series is as follows: Hour= year/ Minute=month/ Cycle=week/ Second=day/ Microsecond=hour/ Nano=minute/ Nanosecond=second_

**A Crime of Passion**

Chapter 1: Doubts

It had been several seconds since the system restart that saved Mainframe, and life seemed to be getting back to normal… as normal as it could be with all that had happened. Enzo, the little one, had a hard time at first coming to terms with the summary from the play, but his ever eager mind couldn't keep him in sad spirits for long. He rebounded quickly, but became much more challenging to handle when it came to the games. Still insistent on not being left out, and looking up not only to his hero, Bob, but his older self, Matrix, he couldn't seem to keep out of trouble.

Luckily, Matrix and AndrAIa were there to help, and though it took a while for Matrix to warm up to his younger self, Enzo's passion and stubbornness couldn't keep him protected from everything. Matrix took it upon himself to look after the boy, even if he wasn't willing to admit it out loud. AndrAIa played along with the charade, even though she knew better what was really going on.

Mouse was finishing up a few last security measures before she took off on a Web Tour with her new found mate, Ray. The two were inseparable as of late, and were unbearable to be around they were so sweet for each other. Once Ray finished a web armor suit for her, they would head out for a few cycles, but promised to return and check in with the gang.

Phong puttered around as usual in the principal's office, but was taking a more active role in serving the citizens of Mainframe as a physician and counselor, something he had enjoyed doing in his younger days before he became the hours before. He was never far from being involved in anything going on in the system, though he left the decision making and organizing to his successor, Dot Matrix.

Dot was as busy as ever, reviewing system diagnostics for each sector and monitoring the progress of working up a link to begin interstellar Net transportation. Dot was insistent that Mainframe needed to be brought online with other systems for trade and alliance, especially with the threat of Daemon on the horizon. In her off time, though, she still managed to meet the needs of her customers and partners at her Diner, where she also made time to catch up with her friends and family.

One friend she needed to get caught up with was Bob, Mainframe's resident and official guardian. The battle with Megabyte and the effective system restart left little time for them to be alone, and the new requirements of being the with a whole new city completely intact was causing just as many missed opportunities. Not to mention the influx of games that had been coming in every other second, the repair of tears that appeared as usual, the ever constant and time consuming energy that was Enzo, and Intel gathering on the super virus Daemon, Bob and Dot rarely got to spend more than a few nanos a day together.

After a cycle, it was starting to take its toll on Dot.

She sighed and removed her glasses, setting them down with the organizer on the diner table. Fingers rubbed across her eyes as her mind kept recalling the conversations she'd had with the Guardian. Greetings in passing, _'how are you's, 'how was the game', 'where's Enzo at now', 'I've missed you so much'…_

Her shoulders slumped. No, that conversation hadn't occurred yet. She didn't know if it would. Her eyes flicked to a private file on her organizer, and she accessed it to view the only file inside: the picture Phong took after the restart, of Bob and Dot embracing after so long. Dot closed her eyes as she recalled the memory… The gentleness of his arms encircling her back, the coolness of his silver armor under her hands, the soft warmth of his lips when they finally met hers…

Dishes clattered as a customer fell out of a booth onto Cecil, who was carrying a tray of energy drinks. He sounded off to the customer in his typical nasal tone, but remained professional enough to ensure the check would be paid. Dot shook her head and smiled at the laughter coming from the diner at the scene. She missed that sound, laughter. It had been so long since the diner was full of that sweet sound, especially with her friends.

Dot glanced at the picture once more before closing the file, frowning as she did so. Despite the happiness that had been infecting Mainframe since the restart, Bob's smiles never seemed to reach his eyes anymore, and she couldn't remember when he last laughed. Matrix had hinted at what he saw in the web when they found Bob, and told her of the small exchange they shared before returning to Mainframe. Bob had summed it up briefly: "We've changed, we've grown." Dot knew what she went through, could somewhat imagine what Enzo endured, but couldn't begin to understand what Bob had to bear. She had never seen the web aside from the portal formed, and even that was only a doorway. Worse still, she had had Mouse to lean on, and Matrix had AndrAIa, but Bob had been alone. He didn't even have Glitch.

Dot looked again at her organizer, seeing several messages had popped up while daydreaming that required her attention. Yet her attention couldn't focus on anything other than Bob. A cycle after reuniting, and no more than a microsecond shared between them for just them.

She was still leaving him alone.

He promised he would never leave her again… she should have made the same to him.

"Right." She stepped out of the booth and shut down her organizer, attaching it to her belt before strolling for the door. "Cecil, you're in charge, I'm taking the rest of the second off."

The entire diner froze, all sound and movement ceasing at the same moment. She looked at the wide eyed customers, and raised an eyebrow at her manager, who lost all ability in his arms and dropped the dishes he was carrying to the floor. His flat mouth moved, but no words were formed.

"What?" she said defensively. "There's a first time for everything." With that, she exited the diner. Opening her zipboard, she called up a VidWindow to Phong, who was busy looking over a patient chart.

"Hello, my child! You look well, what can I do for you?"

"Hi, Phong. I need you to do me a favor. Can you hold down the duties for for the evening? I need some off time."

The chart and pen clattered to the floor in response.

"Thanks, Phong. Call me for emergencies ONLY." She closed out the window, smiling at the shocked expression that minimized with the window. Why was it so hard to believe she took time for herself? The last time she did was…

"Huh. Point taken," she muttered as she jumped on the zipboard and rose into the air over Kit's sector. Looking at her watch, she figured Enzo would be getting out of school and heading over to Bob's to go Jetballing, or at least as per the last message she received from Enzo. Maybe the three of them could go together, just to enjoy being in each other's company if nothing else. When Enzo went to do homework, then she and Bob could talk.

/

"… and Ms. Diskette said I scored the highest on my test, even though I didn't study at all! But don't tell Dot, because she'll make me stay in at night if she thinks I'm not learning anything. But the classes are so boring, they're nothing like beating out the User! When are you going to show me that move you did in the last game? It was so cool! I tried asking Matrix to show me some things, but he just ignored me like always. Why can't he be more like you? Can you talk to him? You both can train me, then I can become a real Guardian, just like you!"

Dot leaned against the door frame, listening to the non stop rant of her energizer brother. A few things she heard were filed away for later discussion, but at that moment she couldn't help but enjoy the overwhelmed look in Bob's eyes as Enzo overloaded him with the second's events. His blue hands successfully failed at trying to defend himself from the onslaught, and every time he opened his mouth to speak, Enzo rushed onto another topic. Dot decided to take pity on her helpless friend.

"Enzo, enough! Take a breath before you stop processing."

Both turned to look at her, surprised. Enzo jumped from Bob's chest and ran at her, throwing his arms around her waist. "Dot! What are you doing here? Did you come to tell Bob about a problem in the system? Do we have to go save someone? Is a game cube coming? Can I please go this time, I passed my test today, I did the best of everyone in the class, please?"

Dot pressed a finger to his lips. "Sorry, little brother, no fires to put out today." She looked at Bob as he sat up on the floor. "I heard about Jetballing, and thought I'd come along and watch, maybe take on the winner." She looked back at Enzo, smiling. "If that's ok with you, of course."

The nano of silence was broken by Dot's laugh. "If only Mike was here to document Enzo the speechless, no one will believe me otherwise."

"You're not busy?" Bob questioned, eyes wide.

"Nope, my schedule is free this afternoon, just for you two. So what are we doing first?"

"ALPHANUMERIC!" Enzo started jumping around the room. "This is so cool, I can't believe I get to spend time with both of you! I don't know what to do first!"

"WARNING: INCOMING GAME. WARNING: INCOMING GAME."

"Aw, man! End file!" Enzo whined.

Dot sighed and looked at the floor, shaking her head in dismay. '_Of course,'_ she thought. She glanced up at Bob and saw the disappointment in his eyes. _'We just never get a break, do we?'_

She caught the hopeful glance Enzo was giving Bob, even though he kept his mouth shut. After several arguments, Dot finally convinced Enzo to stop trying to go into games, or she would offline him for a cycle at a time. She wasn't ready to let him go gallivanting into the games… not when the pain from before was still so fresh.

But she knew where his heart wanted to be, right there next to Bob, his hero. And no matter what she tried to do with him today, he wouldn't be enjoying it while knowing that Bob was in the cube. _'Oh, User, I hope I don't regret this.'_

"If Bob says it's ok, you can go with him."

Once again, the silence was only broken by Dot's exasperated voice. "You can't stand around here all second, there's a game cube dropping!"

Enzo didn't waste another nano. "Can I?"

Bob rolled his eyes and smiled. "Like I could tell you no. Let's go!"

Dot stepped aside as Enzo rushed out the door, but was quickly taken by surprise when he ran back and crushed her in a quick hug. "Love you, sis!" he shouted, before he was gone down the elevator on his board. She stared after him, her heart worried and light at the same time.

"Catch you later?"

She turned back to look at Bob, his face neutral but his eyes warm as he moved past her. She nodded, her voice catching as his arm brushed hers, preventing her from speaking. Too soon he was gone after her brother. She looked out the hallway window to see them both fly off under the cube as it landed not far from the apartment.

"Be careful." She sighed again and headed down to the street level before jumping on her zipboard toward the Principal's Office to monitor the game.

/

"GAME OVER. GAME OVER." As the cube left, Dot called up a VidWindow to Bob. "How'd it go?"

"Fine, Enzo-"

"Totally won the game!" a little green body screeched as he pushed in front of Bob, nearly knocking the Guardian off of his zipboard. "It was pixilascious, sis! I totally kicked the User's bitmap!"

"Enzo, don't push, that's rude!" Dot scolded him lightly. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah!"

"Bob, can you bring Enzo home? I'll have some food from the diner waiting for you."

"Sounds good, Dot," Bob managed to reply when he pushed Enzo's head out of the way. "See you in a nano."

"Cool!" Enzo shouted before the VidWindow closed.

Dot checked a few more systems on her panel before she turned to Phong. "Ok, off time take two."

"Good luck, my child," Phong remarked as she walked away.

"No kidding," she laughed back at him.

/

"…and then Bob did this amazing punching combo that totally knocked the User out of the ring, but then a second User came out from behind and was about to delete Bob for sure when I knocked him out!" Enzo jumped away from the table and ran over to Dot. "It was so cool, he looked like this when I hit him!" He moved his body in slow motion exaggerating his face to replicate a nasty hook that made him sprawl face first onto the floor, using sound effects all the way down.

"Wow, just like that? That's some arm you've got there, Sprout."

Enzo jumped back up and ran over to Bob, who sat across from Dot. "Yeah, but not as good as Bob. He moves so much faster in games now with Glitch, it's so cool!" Enzo looked up at him. "Do you think if I train hard I can be as good as you one day?"

"Train?" Dot asked, sitting at attention in surprise.

"Enzo, you can be the best at anything you want to be when you believe in yourself." Bob glanced quickly at Dot before looking away. "And as long as you have your sister's permission."

Enzo didn't seem to catch the instant message. "As long as I think like you, Bob. You're the best Guardian ever! You'll see, one day I'll mend and defend Mainframe just like you, and I won't let you or Dot down. Viruses and evil-doers beware, you're no match for Bob and me!" Enzo jumped away from the table and began running around the kitchen, pretending he was taking out mini Megabytes that had invaded their little home.

Dot, though not thrilled at the prospect of Enzo becoming a Guardian, couldn't help but chuckle at his abundant energy and passion for the job. User, how she had missed him as a boy. She looked over to Bob, ready to playfully scold him for putting such thoughts in her little brother's head, when she noticed his face. It was drawn, uncomfortable, his body subtly recoiling away from the energetic little sprite. Bob soon caught her stare, flinching under her gaze, before getting up to throw away the remainder of his food.

"Enzo," Dot called him without looking away from Bob's back. "It's time for your homework."

"Awww."

"No excuses, young man."

"But I passed that test today, best in the class!"

"And without studying, I heard. I've got media for you, Enzo, luck runs out eventually, and big sister hears and sees everything!"

"Dang it!"

"Put away your dishes and get started. I'll check on you soon."

Enzo heaved a despaired sigh. "All right." He emptied his plate and put it in the sink, before turning to Bob who was getting another drink from the fridge. "Will you say bye before you leave?"

"Of course, bud," Bob smiled at him. Enzo smiled back before sulking off to his room.

Dot stood and moved over to the counter, but wasn't focused on the dishes. She looked at her companion who kept looking everywhere but at her.

"What is it?" she asked without preamble.

"Nothing," he answered quickly.

"I thought lying wouldn't be possible in a Guardian code," she mocked lightly.

Bob looked up at her, his face a clean slate and unreadable to even her trained eyes. She set her dishes down and moved over to him, placing a hand on his face. Last time she had done this, it was nanoseconds before their first, and only, kiss. She felt her breath catch at the memory, and thought his eyes softened as he also reacted.

"He loves you so much, you know."

Bob closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I know."

"You're the big brother he never had. He could talk about you all day, if I let him."

"Yeah, well, don't."

Dot frowned, concerned by the tone in his voice. Her fingers ran down his cheek and drew his chin up enough to look into his eyes. "Did something happen in the game today?"

"No, Dot. Everything's fine."

"Except with Enzo. Bob, you looked like you would have been more comfortable with Hex fawning over you." She laughed lightly at the sour face he made, feeling a small amount of joy in his negative reaction to the virus that held him so dearly in her infectious heart. "Why?"

Bob stared at her, and behind his eyes she could see his resolve crumbling. "I… it's not…"

Stepping forward, she grabbed his hands and brought them around her back before moving her arms around his neck and hugging him close. He placed his head on hers and they stood together for a moment, just enjoying the feel of the other so close. Dot could feel Bob begin to relax and waited for him to continue.

"I can't deal with the hero worship, Dot. He truly believes these things he says about me, but he doesn't know…"

"About what happened in the Web?"

"Yeah."

"Bob, whatever happened there stays there. We all have to make the best of bad situations, and whatever choices you made I'm sure weren't easy." Dot couldn't stop a quick reflection on bad choices she had made during Megabyte's reign. There were things she certainly wasn't proud of, and yet the people of Mainframe still looked at her positively. "And Enzo is just a young sprite, as he gets older he'll come to see that being a Guardian isn't all black and white, or all victories either."

She pulled back to look up at him, and her hand traced along the scars on his face, some from web degradation, and others from something else. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No." His answer was sharp, surprising her. "No, not yet."

"Bob." Her hand went up through his hair, now longer and darker than before, yet still soft for being affected by the web. "I'm worried about you. We haven't had any time, and there's so much to talk about."

Bob hugged her again, sighing as he pressed his head against hers. "I know," he replied softly. "Things are just hectic."

"But they shouldn't be, and I'm sorry I haven't made time to be with you."

"You're here now."

"Yes I am." She smiled at him. "And at your mercy, it seems. Well, Guardian, what do you plan to do with me?"

For the first time since the restart, Dot saw his eyes light up and a smile like that of the Bob she knew split his face. "Well, I'm more of a fly by the seat of your pants kinda guy."

"And are you flying yet?"

Bob's hand came up to cradle her head while he leaned down to catch her lips with his. Dot's breath left her and warmth spread from her chest down to her toes. She pressed closer into him, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. A small gasp was lost between them when his arms tightened around her waist, and she thrilled at the strength of his arms. Remembering the times he saved her and saved Mainframe with the strength of his body and of his heart, she felt like the intensity of the kiss heightened, and her thoughts were soon tumbling down into fantasies she had locked away long ago. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to live each one of those private dreams, to make up for all that lost time…

Bob pulled away first, resting his forehead on hers as he tried to even his breathing. "I should head back."

"No," Dot mumbled into his chest. "No, stay and talk with me." His soft laughter surprised her.

"Dot, I may be a Guardian, but even I have limits. If I stay, talking will be minimal."

She looked up at him, eyes widening and cheeks reddening with each passing moment. Her embarrassment at his bold but honest statement soon gave way to a saucy grin. "Then let's just talk about your limits."

His jaw dropped and she couldn't help laughing at him. Soon they were both laughing at each other, and Dot felt like it was the greatest thing in the Net. Looking at him, she could see the tension easing from his face and she was happy she was the one to do that for him.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer? I took the night off, you know."

Bob ran his hand through her hair and down her cheek. "And I wish I could spend every nano of it with you, but…" He sighed and looked down the hall towards Enzo's room, then back to her.

She nodded. "I know. That's a conversation I'm not ready to have. Besides, we both need more time." A flash of guilt went through her as she remembered the day she stopped expecting Bob to come home, and scolded herself again for giving up hope.

Bob's eyes had a similar far away look, telling Dot that they still had some doubts to work through before they both felt all right again. She grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the present. "But we will talk, right?"

He nodded. "I promise." He squeezed her hand before moving towards Enzo's room to say good night. A tug on his hand pulled him back and Dot's mouth found his again to share some final good night wishes.

Bob gladly returned a few of his own.

_If you would like to post reviews, I thank you in advance for your time in doing so. No flames, please, constructive criticism only!_


	2. Revelations

_ReBoot Timeline (Hour= year/ Minute=month/ cycle=week/ second=day/ microsecond=hour/ nano=minute/ nanosecond=second/)_

Chapter 2: Revelations

Dot zipped down Baudway, looking up at the high rises with a touch of longing. _'I really need a break.'_ Though only three seconds had passed since she had last taken time off, those seconds were filled with non stop account problems, system incompatibility errors, jobless binomes, and frustrated sprites. Dot did her best to see to each crisis as it came to her attention, but even she was bound by 24 microseconds in a second. As always, she threw her full weight into her responsibilities, and now her neck was so tight her shoulders were almost in her ears. Even though she was requested to review a building schematic for the new transport dock near the Mainframe pier, she promised herself at least 15 nanos to check on her Diner.

The place was busier than usual, and Dot was pleased that business had picked up since the restart. A few binomes greeted her and asked questions about updates in the Wall Street sector. She promised to get back with them while she scanned for some familiar faces. One towered over the rest, and Dot made an underscore line for her big little brother. She saw him chatting with AndrAIa and Enzo, and her heart warmed that Matrix was putting on his best show of tolerating his younger self. She knew both were having issues with the situation, but they were strong. They were Matrices.

"Hi guys, what's processing?"

Enzo tackled her before she could catch Matrix's answer, and she only dimly heard what he said while she caught the eye roll of her renegade.

"…and they'll let me try out the new zip sneakers if I beat them both, but only then if my homework is done, which it is, and then if you let me go, so I promise I'll be good and I won't get hurt and I'll even clean my room when I get home, so can I?"

Dot's smile was frozen on her face as she tried to recall the first part of the conversation. AndrAIa mouthed the words "JetBall Extreme", and realized that an improved system was just installed to better accommodate multiple players. She was hesitant to agree, but latched onto some leverage. "Your whole room?"

Enzo's head nodded vigorously in reply. "Promise!"

"Dinner's at 1800, be home in time to clean up, and be careful out there!" She laughed as Enzo jumped off her chest, grabbed AndrAIa's hand and started dragging her out the door. Matrix helped Dot from the floor, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and left.

Dot scanned the rest of the booths, feeling mildly disappointed at the absence of the one occupant she was hoping to see. After getting a quick pass down from Cecil on the Diner's current statistics, she left and jumped on her zipboard to make her meeting at the docks. A small crowd caught her eye, and she zipped over to see numerous binomes crowded around a young "1", his eye red from crying and a large gash along his left leg. Next to him was Bob, his hands glowing softly as they hovered over the wound. Soon, there was nothing but a thin blue line, and Bob began to put a small wrap around the mostly healed wound.

"There you go," he said with a smile. "Always make sure to look twice before crossing the road, ok?"

The little "1" moved his leg, blinked, and smiled at Bob. "Thank you," it squeaked. His friends looked at the bandage and back at Bob, before gushing to the repaired "1" how cool he was to be patched by the Guardian. He was soon on his feet and running off with his friends toward the park. The crowd dispersed behind them, and Bob started to walk towards the Diner to find Dot cruising slowly next to him.

"Dot! Hi."

"Hi, Bob. Nice patch."

Bob shrugged. "Comes with the territory." He smiled at her. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, you know," she sighed, "business as usual. I'm heading over to the docks to review the building plans for the Net Port." She gave him a critical once over, and arched an eyebrow at his sudden discomfort. "You look awful."

Bob stumbled a little and shook his head. "Great to see you, too!"

Dot zipped in front of him, gliding backwards as he continued walking. "No, seriously. You look like you haven't downtimed in seconds." She stopped gliding. "Are you ok?"

Bob shrugged again, and smiled as casually as possible. "Just a few restless nights at the apartment. Nothing a Dot's Diner energy shake can't fix."

Dot crossed her arms and stared.

"Really, I'm fine."

An arched eyebrow.

"You're really pretty when you do that."

"And you're really bad at changing subjects."

Bob seemed to deflate in front of her. "Dot, I appreciate you trying to help, but I'm going to be fine. Don't worry about me."

'_I like worrying about you.'_ Dot gave herself a mental shake. That was a discussion for another time. Right now, she needed to give Bob something else to think about. Glancing around her at the mostly empty sidewalk, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a side alley, away from prying ears.

"Uh, Dot? The pier is the other way."

"So is the Diner." She stopped a few meters in, and turned to face him, her hand still gripping his. "Bob, there's something I want to tell you about, something during the time you were gone." Bob's eyes narrowed slightly, but eased as she shook her head. "No, it's not what you think. It's about you. No, not you. Us."

"…Ok."

Dot took a breath and pressed forward. "Not a day passed when I didn't pray to the User that you were safe, and that you would come back to us. But as the seconds passed, and cycles turned into minutes, I faltered. I started to hold out for you less and less each second, until, well, until I just stopped looking to the sky." She dropped her eyes, only encouraged when she felt Bob's hand tighten on hers. "I gave up hope that you would come back. I found hoping just hurt more the longer I held on. And then you came back, and when you did…" She looked back up to him again, locking her eyes with his and silently begging him to understand. "When you walked in that room, I just wanted to run and hide, because I was too ashamed of myself that I gave up on you."

Bob moved closer, his eyes sympathetic. "Dot."

"And you know what happened next? Mouse." Dot smiled at Bob's surprised and confused look. "She sauntered right into my "office" and told me to get over myself, and to go after you." She smiled as she remembered the hacker's words. _'…you're love for him, and his love for you.'_ "Don't you see? I would still be running from you right now if I didn't tell Mouse about my misgivings, because had I not confessed to her why I was avoiding you, she wouldn't have pointed out that I was letting myself be controlled by my own fears. Fears that were wholly unfounded." She squeezed his hand. "I couldn't do it alone, Bob."

Bob stared at her then looked at their hands. His thumb moved in slow circles across her palm, and Dot couldn't help but wonder at the electric current that went through her from the tiny gesture. She held her breath, hoping he wouldn't shut her out again.

"The system could crash without you."

Dot chuckled, unsure of where Bob was going with this. "It could crash without you, too."

"No, I mean, being the Commander, you have a lot of responsibility and a schedule so packed I have to make an appointment three minutes in advance to take you to lunch." He raised his eyes to meet hers, a touch of sadness in his smile. "You have so much on your mind right now, my baggage would only make things worse for you. And I know I'm going to need a lot more than a few nanos of your precious time."

"Don't tell me that's why you've been avoiding this," Dot scolded lightly. "I know I am busy, but I know where my priorities are."

"Our priorities are the system first, Dot."

"And more than one sprite operates the system, Bob. I can make the time. Will you?"

Bob gave her a small smile, one that reflected a weariness in him that came from more than sleepless nights. "Yeah."

"Good." She released his hand, the sudden coolness a mild shock to her system. _'Wow, I've really got it bad, don't I?'_ She pulled open her organizer, tapped a few icons, and then nodded once. "Ok, 1900."

"What's happening at 1900?"

"I'm picking you up at your apartment."

"Tonight?" Bob stumbled over his words as he continued, "Dot, that's a little short notice, don't you think?"

"No, I don't." She smiled at him. "No time like the present, right?" She checked her watch and feigned panic. "Oh, no, I'm late! Gotta go, see you tonight!"

"Wait, where are we going?" Bob asked as she started to zip up into the sky.

"Only time will tell!" she called back, laughing at the mystified look on his face. As she zoomed past Baudway, she allowed herself a smile in anticipation for the quality time she and Bob would share. Her eyes glanced again at the high rises, and she pushed her board a little faster, eager to get the day over with.

/

"Where are w… Wow." Bob's voice left him as he followed Dot into the room. A rather large and upscale room. A room near the top floor of one of the most expensive condos in Baudway. To the right was the kitchenette complete with jet black appliances and a granite bar. To the left, a wide staircase wound around the room to a pair of double doors at the top. Straight ahead, a sitting area complete with overstuffed loungers, a simple glass table and a fireplace was dwarfed by the two floor high windows that looked out over a better majority of Mainframe. Bob stepped over to the windows and looked down into the heart of Baudway, bustling with night life activity. The lights were bright and flashing, but the noise was non existent.

Again, he could bring himself to say nothing more than, "Wow."

Dot chuckled. "Yes, that's how I felt."

"Someone lent this to you for tonight? And on short notice? Being has it's connections, huh?" Bob joked as he walked back to her.

"You could say that. A close personal friend secured this for me. She's quite popular around Mainframe, and so involved with the citizens. I've even heard rumors she's seeing the most eligible guardian in the system." She smirked at Bob's confused look until he noticed a piece of mail on the counter.

"D. M. Trixa." He put the letter down and with a dramatic sigh he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Well, I can neither confirm nor deny such a relationship at this time, but I can say she is such a babe." A dish towel hit him in the face, hiding his smirk.

"I bet you say that about all the sprites."

"Just the green ones."

"Matrix must love the attention," Dot grinned as she pulled a bottle of red wine from the cabinet and two glasses, handing him the bottle and an opener. "You pour, I'll turn on the heat."

"So, Ms. Trixa, exactly what are you doing with a place like this?"

"What do you mean?" Dot was kneeling in front of the fireplace, striking up a match.

"You have your apartment with Enzo, you have the dinner, you have private quarters at the P.O. in case of emergencies; this seems like extra fluff for someone so practical." He brought the glasses over to the table.

She scooted back away from the glowing fire and beckoned him to sit down on the floor with her, their backs against the loungers. "Well, it started out with a business partnership. A while back, when the diner was just starting to get going, I had some pretty heavy competition in the area. I need more help getting the diner advertised, and one of my friends from school was going into the real estate business. She, too, needed a boost in advertisement. So we helped promote each others business at our respective locations, and everything just went up from there. I let her use the dinner for luncheon meetings parties, and she let me buy one of the newer condo models she designed at an incredibly reasonable price."

Bob was surprised. "So you've had this for a while?"

"Yep." She sipped her wine and leaned back, relaxing into the soft cushions. "I'm always so involved with people from the diner or the partner accounts, and now with my new format, I get almost no time to myself." She looked down at the floor, her voice softening almost shyly. "And as much as I love Enzo, sometimes I just want to shut out all of Mainframe, just to enjoy a moment of silence." Her eyes swept the room before coming back to Bob. "I don't come here often, and usually not for very long, but it's always a comfort in the back of my mind to know that I have this here, a secret place where I can decompress when I really need it."

"And what a secret it is," Bob complimented. "Here we all get so worried you work too hard, and yet you've always had your own little way to cope." Bob laughed lightly into his glass. "And it raises the question: what other secrets are you hiding?"

"If only you knew," Dot answered in a low, sultry voice that made Bob cough into his glass. She laughed, and loved how it sounded free and warm to her ears. "But not tonight. You'll just have to start coming over more often."

"Is that an open invitation?"

Dot looked at him closely, and the mood settled into a more serious tone. "Yes. I want you to take a key with you." She shook her head slightly as eyebrows shot up. "Not _that _open, Guardian," she chided lightly. "What I mean is that this place is a safe haven for me when I need to get away from everything, even myself. I want you to have that, too."

"I do have my own apartment."

She reached out and took his free hand. "Yes, and everyone knows where it is. Here, only you and I know about it. So if you need to stop being Guardian 452 and just be Bob, even if only for a few nanos, this place is yours."

Bob stared at her quietly for a moment. His hand tightened on hers and with a soft, "Come here," he turned her, pulling her back to his chest and circling one arm around her waist as she settled against him. His hand gently stroked along her side and he placed his chin on her shoulder while Dot sighed. "Thank you," he whispered.

They sat quietly for some time, gazing at the crackling fire, before Dot spoke. "Matrix and AndrAIa are watching Enzo tonight, and Phong knows to only call in a dire emergency. Short of a game cube falling, we should have the whole night to ourselves." She felt Bob's breath hold as he waited for her to continue. "We can talk about whatever you want… if you want." She sunk into his embrace a little deeper and turned to nuzzle her head lightly against his. "Or we can stay just like this." She didn't say the words, but she just knew he understood her meaning. '_Whatever you want to do, Bob, I'm here for you.'_

Again, they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Dot let herself start to drift in his arms, the comfort in his closeness causing her to lull in the sweet space between asleep and awake, and deep down she reveled in the idea of waking up beside him in the morning. She stirred when his other arm wrapped around her body and he sighed.

In the quiet of the night, in the light and warmth of the modest fire, in the security of her concern for him. Bob softly began his story…


	3. Exiled

Chapter 3: Exiled

"No!" Bob's cry was deafened by the boosters igniting under his feet as he shot up and away from Mainframe, his eyes locked on Dot until he could see her no more. Purple liquid rippled around the glass, and then the portal of Mainframe was arcing away from him, lost below his upward trajectory in a sea of orange, purple, and red. Bob's voice left him as he saw the vastness of the web, and nothing in sight to stop his momentum. '_What if I never stop?'_ Bob's mind cruelly flashed an image of the inside of the capsule, empty save for a pile of guardian clothes, the owner long since deleted. The morbid thought vanished as he caught sight of one of the web's notorious creatures, a huge, inky black, snake-like being with six spindly arms that undulated behind it. Bob glimpsed long white fangs before he sailed past, and he silently prayed to the User that the creature did not see him.

His prayer went unheard.

Bob cried out as the shuttle quaked with the first impact of the creature latching onto the hull. The arms wrapped around the vessel several times over, as it drew itself close enough for eight red eyes to press against the glass, staring in at its meal. The guardian pressed himself against the back, trying to move as far from that stare as he could. Rows of sharp, jagged fangs crashed into the right side door, denting but not breaking through the material. It attacked again, to no avail. Its angry eyes blinked once, never leaving the eyes of the helpless passenger inside.

By the User, he could almost see the creature calculating its next move.

The arms moved around the transport, and Bob realized it was looking for another way in. He crouched to the floor, arms over his head, as he heard the ceiling be pounded on mercilessly, then the walls, until the arms came upon the doors. '_Uh, oh'._ Bob watched, mesmerized at the barely perceptible movement of the doors, not yet enough to allow the toxic atmosphere to enter, but enough to send Bob's heart into his throat.

The creature's eyes almost took on a look of glee as it appeared to solve its little puzzle.

Bob watched the arms begin to pull apart the doors and found a perverse comfort that he wasn't going to have to worry about wasting away to deletion in the web. He closed his eyes, and pictured Dot's face. '_I'm so sorry…'_

The screech was nearly unbearable, and Bob tucked himself into a ball in an attempt to get away from the deadly atmosphere and the crushing tentacle of the creature… but neither attacked him. Bob peaked out from under his arm to see the monster was gone, its screech one of frustration as it flew away. _'What?'_ Bob approached the glass, mystified why it had retreated, and dreading the answer. _'A bigger creature?'_ But all Bob could see was a cloud, bright in color and swirling in angry bursts of energy. Lightning crackled inside, and fire spewed from all sides. It was a web storm, and he was sailing straight for it.

Bob thought furiously, wondering if he threw his weight at the door, it could cause him to drift passed the storm, but too late he was caught in the maelstrom. A constant thunder overwhelmed Bob's ears, and the winds tossed the vessel into a spin that was rapidly gaining velocity. Soon, Bob found himself crushed against the wall, the increasing gravity making it near impossible to even lift his arms. He closed his eyes to block out the nauseating picture of the storm spinning so fast outside of the glass, the colors blended into one big swirl of blazing orange and vengeful red.

Suddenly, over the thundering of the storm and the pounding of his heart, he could hear metal tearing. _'It's breaking apart!'_ Bob could focus on no more than that as it was becoming increasingly difficult to breath from the pressure on his chest. His mind began to flash pictures of what his body would look like before fading to deletion, after being torn to parts, ripped into pieces, and burned to a blackened crisp once his soft flesh became exposed.

The shuttle exploded in light and Bob was suddenly thrown forward, into the storm, into oblivion, his voice screaming in the only real fear he could ever remembering feeling…

"Ow!" His scream was cut short when his head smacked against the glass doors. His arm lifted to cradle his head, but was unable to move as it was pinned between his body and the doors. Cracking open one eye, Bob could see nothing but darkness on the outside. Inside the shuttle, though, the insane spinning had stopped, and there was an eerie quiet compared to the core rattling thunder of the storm, a quiet broken only by his rapid breaths and pounding heart. A lone light in the ceiling flickered persistently.

Forcing himself to a state of calm, he carefully moved to his knees. He couldn't stand fully up right, as the shuttle was now laying doors down on something. The guardian listened carefully for any indication of where he was. Focusing on his surroundings, he could feel a slight tremble through his hands as they rested on the shuttle. _'Movement? Or, turbulence?'_

Noise from outside the shuttle caused Bob's breath to catch, ears straining to hear more. Heavy stomps, steady, moving closer. Footsteps! The shuttle rocked back and forth when something smashed into the side.

"Anybody alive in there?"

"Depends on who's asking," Bob replied back, relieved at hearing a sentient being outside his prison, but cautious as he could not see the owner of the gruff voice.

A cackle filled Bob's ears. "We've got a live one, boys!" Before he could begin to comprehend the words, the shuttle was lifted up and Bob slid to the floor as he was righted. He peered out the doors but could see nothing beyond warped and blackened glass, nearly melted by the web storm. However, he could hear multiple voices on the outside of the door, and they sounded like a lively bunch. A bar appeared between the doors and began to pry the twisted metal apart.

Bob's right hand went instinctively to his left wrist, feeling the empty space there, and he desperately wished Glitch was still there in case his rescuers were too lively. Instead, he took a defensive posture and waited, ready to fight his was through should the need arise.

With a groan, the doors finally broke away enough for multiple pairs of hands to grab the doors and open them fully. There, on the other side, were six heads staring in at the slightly worse for wear Guardian.

"Hi," Bob greeted them.

Silence greeted him back, and he overcame the urge to squirm under the intense scrutiny of the ragged bunch. And ragged was putting it kindly. All six looked like they slept in piles of dirt and grim, if only to cover the several scars that crisscrossed their faces. Some had earrings, some glared with prosthetic eyes, some smiled with missing teeth, but all had danger reeking from their cold stares.

"Since you were so kind to give me a lift, I don't suppose you could drop me off at the nearest system? I have a really important engagement to make."

"It's a Guardian."

Bob recognized the voice as the one whom first spoke to him, a voice coming from a tall, muscular, but less than intelligent looking sprite with a red bandana and a twin bladed knife on his belt. The others murmured agreement, and their wide eyes soon were replaced by looks of anticipation.

"We haven't had a guardian, before," spoke another, a small, white, and bald fellow with darts in his belt.

"Can we keep him?" smirked a third, this one the tallest of the group and gangly with large fists covered by metal braces.

Bob bristled at the question. "Hey, I am not a pet!" His indignant cry was met with a bellow of laughter.

"That's what you think, but you'll soon learn!" 'Gruff' laughed as he reached into the shuttle and grabbed Bob by his collar, easily lifting him off his feet.

"Hey!" Bob struggled with his captor, his legs dangling in the air. _'Oh no, you don't.'_ Bob threw his legs out and wrapped them around the white sprite who lost his balance and pulled Bob out of Gruff's grip. Bob wasted no time in rolling onto his feet, swinging his leg in a wide arc back toward Gruff, hitting him behind the knees and causing the large brute to topple backwards. He stood and ducked away from a swing by the tall sprite, the metal knuckles on his fist cracking into the wood as Bob dodged. The sprite bellowed in pain, and Bob jumped on his back, pushing him into two other sprites who rushed him. The three crashed together in a pile of legs and arms, their struggle to get up effectively knocking over a small table.

Bob winced at the sound of breaking glass. "And that's why we can't have nice things," Bob chided. He looked around at the felled rouges. "Now, where were we? Transport! I need a transport, and how about some energy to go?"

Bob turned around at a sound behind him, and the blow hit him solidly in the chest, flinging him back against the wall. He was so stunned by the power of the hit he had no time to react when that same force drove into his stomach, crumbling him to the floor as all air left his lungs.

"We'll transport you, Guardian. But not where you want to go," Gruff sneered, back on his feet and towering over Bob. He yanked Bob up under his left arm, and another sprite lifted him under his right. "Resist again, and I'll break your legs."

Bob could only cough as he attempted to breathe normally again.

"Is that it from him? I thought these guardians were supposed to be tough," he barely heard over his panting breaths. "Guess they just don't make them like they used to." Mocking laughter filled his ears as he was dragged down a long hallway. Bob tried to take in as much of his surroundings as he could, but could only gather that he was somewhere made of wood and metal, there were many sprites that looked less than reputable, and the grips on the two who carried him were causing him to lose feeling in his hands.

They stopped at a large door and knocked, entering only when granted. The room was fairly large, and elegantly decorated. Bob's mind immediately jumped to piracy, and he held a hope that these sprites might be familiar with Captain Capacitor, otherwise known as The Crimson Binome. He was roughly dropped on his knees, and the sprites held him as he struggled to stand.

"And what have we here, gentleman?" a male silken voice asked from behind. Bob tried to turn his head in the direction, but the sprites were making it very difficult.

"A prize inside the shuttle we tracked in the storm," Gruff answered.

"Not much of one, if you ask me." The second sprite that hauled Bob spoke, his pale yellow skin dotted by green and brown specs. From what Bob had seen, it looked like he had two hammers on his belt.

"We didn't ask you, Clunk, so shut up," Gruff spat.

"Suck on a magnet, Tower," Clunk snapped.

"Such language! Why don't you two play outside, and let me have a word with out guest," the unseen sprite ordered mildly.

The sprites released Bob, and he moved to stand, but Tower smacked him down again. "You stay down! Do not move unless told to."

_'Yeah, right.'_ Bob took a breath, forcing himself to keep his cool, and instead chose to wait until Tower and Clunk had left. When they did, Bob climbed to his feet.

_Crack!_ Bob cried out as an electric current surged through his legs right at his knees, and he collapsed onto hands and knees, head bowed near the floor while he focused on relaxing his muscles that continued to spasm.

"Not very good at listening, are you?"

Footsteps walked around the guardian until they stopped right under his nose, and through his haze of pain, Bob could make out black boots of shiny leather. Stains covered the tips of each, and Bob thought they may have been made by dried energy. That was not a good sign.

_Crack!_ Bob crashed to the floor, the electrical current having surged through his back with such force it felt like a physical blow. The footsteps continued to move around him, slowly, as if taking great care in where each step was placed. Bob turned his head, attempting to look up at his assailant. A blurry figure of red and black slowly came into focus.

"If I have your attention now, perhaps you will be good enough to do what I say, else you will be spending whatever time you have left in a great deal of pain." The red sprite crouched down, his gold eyes bright with politeness. "How 'bout it, Guardian?"

Bob stared back, refusing to answer. Instead, he logged all of the information he could gather from the apparent leader of the group. Long, jet black hair pulled in a pony tail, skin red as if burned by a tear, adorned in a simple black leather one piece that had no sleeves and was accentuated by a silver belt and sword. His face was smooth, with no traces of brawl scars, and one could say handsome by the balance of his features. His ears were long and pointed, black studs pierced through in several places.

But most striking were his eyes. Bright gold in color, they were filled with intelligence, humor, and warmth that seemed completely out of place with the reversing current whip in his hand. A smile that appeared genuine graced his lips, and his voice was kind when he spoke.

"Hmm, I'll take your silence as agreement. But if you try to do anything without permission," he waved the whip back and forth, "then you'll get another tap." He stood and walked away, calling out for someone named Cooky to bring in something called a Bandit Backup.

Bob took the opportunity to close his eyes and catch his breath. His body was on fire, but the spasms had stopped, and though his muscles felt sore, he was sure that he would have enough energy to make a break for it, when the time was right. He didn't know where he would go or what he would do to get there, but those were minor details he would handle as they came around.

The footsteps came back, and suddenly the red sprite was kneeling by him. "Sit up, and drink this." Bob felt the sprite grab him under his arm and help him up, and then pressed the steaming mug into his hands. "It will help."

Bob stared the sprite down, his face fixed and his body making no movement to drink whatever was given to him.

"You are defiant," the sprite laughed and stood, walking away a few steps to a large chair that he draped himself across, one leg swung up over the arm. He reached to a table beside him and picked up his own cup. "It's the finest brew we have on board, a mix of spirits and energy that will get you buzzing." He took a large sip and encouraged Bob to do the same. "Trust me, it will help with the pain."

"How's so, by knocking me out? Do you have something extra added, just for me?"

The sprite almost looked shocked. "Now, Guardian, do you think I would treat you this well if I was only planning to drug you, or poison you?"

_'Yes, so well,'_ Bob thought as his sore muscles reminded him of the treatment he received.

"Are you hungry?"

Bob's stomach rumbled. "No."

The sprite smiled. "You will be a fun one."

Bob's face dropped into a frown. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes moving across the ceiling as if weighing a great decision. "Oh, that can wait," he decided, his head cocking to the side as he inspected his guest. "What are you called?"

"Guardian," Bob answered simply.

The sprite shook his head. "I meant your name. I can see what your format is."

"Bob."

"Hello, Bob. I am called Blackadder. Welcome aboard _The Escape_."

"Pirates?"

Blackadder laughed. "Hardly. We do not raid systems for loot. We help systems fight, for a fee."

Mercenaries. "Fight what?"

"What ever is requested. Though right now we are in demand to replace your kind."

Bob frowned. "My kind?"

"Guardians aren't viewed too fondly at the moment." Blackadder sipped from his cup again, his eyes taking on a curious look. "Didn't you know?"

Bob's mouth tightened. He'd heard rumors that Guardians had been turning rouge, but he'd been hearing those since he first joined the academy. And yet, he had received a cryptic message from Turbo not long ago to stay clear of the SuperComputer, but he had never found out why with first Mouse and then the web creature causing mayhem in Mainframe.

"We've assisted systems in winning games, games that stopped being fought by those Guardians sworn to protect the system. Apparently, Guardians have been fleeing to the SuperComputer and leaving systems to fend for themselves. Many are not doing too well."

Bob's eyes widened at the statement. Guardians leaving behind systems with no means of defense? Impossible! His eyes narrowed. "Even if what you say is true, you expect me to believe that your sprites are actually helping systems? Concern for others doesn't appear to fit your format."

Blackadder laughed and sighed. "Oh, how wrong you are. For the right price, our formats fit the desired service. Right now, we are transporting supplies to a satellite system that has been built inside the web, to stay out of contact with the net."

"A system outside of the Net? I've never heard of such a thing."

"Of course not, Guardian. You're the enemy, remember?" Blackadder gracefully moved to his feet and stepped towards Bob. "And that's why we can't have you running away to the SuperComputer and ruining everything, can we?"

Bob became increasingly uncomfortable with Blackadder standing over him, and his knees were beginning to hurt. He eyed the whip dangling at the mercenaries' side, and swallowed his pride long enough to bite out the question, "May I stand?"

Blackadder's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Well, he can be taught!" He leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Maybe there is hope for you yet, young one." With an upward gesture of his hand, he encouraged Bob to do as he pleased, and walked away to a table covered in food.

Bob stood and turned, watching the sprite as he picked at some energy fruit. "Blackadder, I don't know what is going on with these Guardians you speak about, but right now, the SuperComputer is the last thing I care about. I need to get back to my system."

"You mean the same system that launched you to a horrifying, painful deletion in the web? Sounds like they will be so pleased to have you home."

"It was not the citizens, it was a virus. A virus who right now is going to try and infect the whole system and claim it as his own. I can't let that happen."

"And what are you going to do about it, Guardian-with-no-keytool?" Blackadder asked as he turned back around.

Bob unconsciously grabbed his left wrist. "I will do whatever it takes."

Blackadder stared at him for a moment. His eyes traveled up and down the Guardian then he stepped forward slowly. "Tell me, how did this virus manage to trap you and send you to certain doom?"

Bob flinched. "I trusted him."

"Trusted him to do what?"

"To help save our system."

"Hmm. Well, I'll bet you learned a valuable lesson."

"Look, if you help me, I will pay you back in whatever you ask. I give you my word."

"Your word?" Blackadder mocked, walking a slow circle around Bob. "I made a mistake, too, once, trusting in the protection of a savior in our system. He promised to "mend and defend" until got tired of our little part of the net. He stopped fighting viruses, stopped mending tears, stopped fighting games. Then he just left, back to the SuperComputer, where the real action was. My system crashed, and everyone unable to escape was deleted. I learned a valuable lesson." He stepped up close behind Bob, his voice whispering in is ear. "Never trust a Guardian."

Bob felt a chill at the coldness in the sprite's voice, the bitterness of his loss the first show of emotion other than the deliriously happy sprite of earlier. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sure I'll find a way for you to make it up to me," Blackadder soothed as he moved back up to his chair, settling comfortably into it. "We are in need of another pair of hands for hull repairs. The Web can be so rough on my poor girl."

Bob spun around. "Please, my system needs me. I am not the Guardian from your system, I need to fight for Mainframe," Bob pleaded. "You can help stop it from falling apart, you can save thousands of innocents." He paused. "It's my home."

Blackadder cocked his head, tapping his fingers along the arm of the chair. "Not anymore." He depressed a button, the floor opened beneath Bob, and he fell without a sound down a long chute, his hands reaching out for anything to slow his descent. Nanoseconds later he was deposited into a dark pit, but not before he felt a stinging pain in his hand as he flew onto the solid surface.

Bob rolled a few feet before coming to rest on his back, his eyes shut as his right hand cradled his left. Slowly, he opened his eyes to scan the room, seeing he was in some type of a jail cell. The door seemed firmly locked, and there was nothing else in the space save the chute, a bench, and two other cells, one on each side of his own. No one else was around.

Taking a deep breath, Bob looked down at his hand and winced. One of his fingers was bent oddly, and fresh blue energy oozed from a jagged cut down his palm. He was going to have to set his finger and stop the bleeding. Then he was going to have to find a way out, find an escape pod, find Mainframe's tear, and make a portal. All without Glitch.

This was bad. This was very bad.


	4. Games

Chapter 4: Games

Bob sat on the bench and steadied his breathing. He had looked all around the cell for a way to escape, but so far had found nothing that would offer even a remote possibility. The door was locked, the bars were too close together, there were no openings in the floor or ceiling from vents, and the chute he traveled down was too smooth and set at too steep an angle for him to get a secure hold on to climb.

Admitting temporary defeat on the escape plan, he redirected his attention to his hand. He'd found small scraps of cloth and small pieces of wood that he managed to make about the same size as his finger. He simply needed to reset the break then bandage the wounds.

He leaned his head back against the wall, his right hand holding his left, and his fingers reaching for the damaged digit. Bob took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and-

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"Gah!" Bob jumped over to the side, startled by the soft voice and the penetrating eyes that stared at him through the bars. "Don't do that!"

"Don't do what?" the sprite challenged as he unlocked the cell and stepped inside. "Don't stop you from making things worse, or don't question your stupidity when you're full speed ahead?"

"There's nothing stupid about trying to fix myself," Bob muttered, still cradling his left hand.

"There is when you're not doing it right. Move over and let me look at it." The older male nearly shoved Bob off the bench, dropped a bag on the floor, and started looking at Bob's hand. "Hmm, clean break, easy fix. And that cut has pretty much stopped bleeding, but we'll want to clean that before it gets infected."

As the sprite examined Bob's hand, Bob examined him. He was older than the others he had seen onboard, by several hours. His attitude was rough around the edges, but friendly and welcoming to the other treatment he'd been privileged to so far. His hair was white-silver, and pulled back into a long tail at the back. He had a small, well trimmed beard, also silver-white, and his skin was a pale orange. He wasn't remarkably tall, and his build was athletic with a few extra pounds. Unlike the other members of the crew, he was the only one who didn't seem to carry a weapon. The one characteristic that made him so different was his eyes, which were soft purple in color, but full of warmth and actual concern that Bob hadn't seen from the other mercenaries.

_Snap!_ Bob's world went black for a moment, the pain from his finger being set nearly sending his stomach contents onto the floor. Nanoseconds later, the pain and sudden dizziness passed as the sprite finished binding his last two fingers together in a splint. Moments later, his hand was wrapped in a clean white bandage, and the sprite set to work checking over the rest of the prisoner.

"Any other pains troubling you?"

Bob looked at the sprite through narrowed eyes in disbelief. The sprite waited patiently for Bob to continue. "Yeah, now that you mention it," Bob remarked dryly, "I have a real pain in my ASCII named your fearless leader, who's giving me trouble getting home. Can you fix that for me?"

The sprite blinked and reached into his bag. Shaking out something from a white container, he said, "Take two and call me in the morning."

"These are not going to get me home!" Bob argued, not amused by the sprite's response.

"No," the sprite shrugged, "but they'll help you rest, and you can visit your home in your dreams. That's what we all do." He situated his bag and started to stand.

Bob stared at the pills then thought about what the sprite said, picking up something odd in his tone. "Where is home for these sprites?"

"_The Escape_ is our home. Our systems are no longer inhabitable, and so we live here." The older sprite locked the cell as he walked out.

"Wait! Who are you?"

A voice called back to him from the darkened passageway, "A friend."

/

Metal slammed against metal, and Bob's head shot up as he awoke from his troubled slumber on the bench. His vision was blurry as he made out a large dark shadow blocking the light coming in from the cell door. Before he could react, his hands were shackled quickly followed by his ankles, and he was yanked off the bench to stand on unsteady feet.

"Rise and shine, Guardian."

"Morning to you, too, Tower," Bob replied, his voice rough from sleep. He said nothing more as he was dragged down the hallway and down two flights of stairs to a large storage area. There, two other sprites were working along the wall, and Bob was pushed their way.

"Centrino, Dolby, here's your new trainee. Break him in." Tower began back up the stairs.

"Hey, I requested a breakfast when I booked this place!"

Tower only laughed. "You overslept," his voice drifted down from the next deck.

"Great," Bob muttered, turning his attention to his companions. They stared at him, their eyes narrowed and mouths tight. They didn't seem quite sure what to do with him.

Never one for awkward silences, Bob flashed his best smile and greeted them.

The one on the left, a dark tanned male of exceptional build, grunted back at him, and shot an amused glance at the sprite on his left. "Well, Dolby, they weren't kidding when they said he was a strange one."

Dolby nodded. "Yup, this is gonna be interestin'." Bright yellow in color, taller than Bob and about as muscular, Dobly grabbed a repair tool and tossed it at Bob. "You know how to weld?"

Bob nodded. "I'm much better at repairing tears, though."

"The ship don't have tears, she's got cracks." He pointed to a long black line along the floor. "Web damage, breaks through the outer hull. We fix it. Now you fix it." He tossed him a pair of goggles. "So git hot."

Centrino and Dolby went back to their repairs, leaving Bob standing unobserved. Bob's initial reaction was to turn and bolt, to attempt escape, but he hesitated. The two sprites began talking about some brawl that had occurred in the last system, and gave little acknowledgement to him. He realized he had two options: attempt to escape when he didn't know the layout of the ship, didn't know the number of sprites on board, and didn't know the consequences of attempted escape, or he could work alongside these sprites and try to gain as much knowledge about his environment as possible.

The latter would fall in more with a plan of attack. That really wasn't his style, and as he looked at the welding tool in his hands, he realized he didn't have time for a plan. With a shrug, he confirmed no one else was with them, broke off the battery charge, stepped up between the two sprites, and waved the tool in front of their faces. When they turned back to him, he gave them a look of helplessness.

"I can't seem to turn the thing on," he said with perfect innocence. When both looked closely at the tool, he accidentally dropped it. "Oops!" As the two sprites reached for it, their heads came close together. With a little nudge from Bob, their heads cracked against each other, and both collapsed to the floor in instant slumber. Bob quickly grabbed one of their tools, set the mending torch to its highest setting, and proceeded to cut through his bonds.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Bob muttered when he searched the downed sprites to find neither had any weapons. Scanning the room, he found a piece of pipe that would have to serve as a bat until he could find something better. He began climbing the stairs, his ears attuned for any sounds from higher decks. At the top, he found several doors along the hall, and guessed they were cabins for sleeping quarters. He continued up, pausing at the sounds of laughter. It resonated from a large area to the right of the stairs, and Bob peaked around the corner.

The room was large and open, with several tables set near the middle. Crates and boxes were stacked along the walls, and there was a serving area farthest from his spot. Several sprites were gathered around three of the tables, cheering on a game Bob couldn't see. It appeared to Bob that he had found the dinning hall. The problem presented itself in getting up the next flight of stairs without being spotted. From his hiding place, Bob could not see any sprite whose line of vision was facing the stairs, but one glance towards the stairs could give him away.

Suddenly the room roared with laughter and cheering, and Bob took the chance to jump up to the next stairwell, making his footfalls as light as possible, though he doubted anyone would hear him over the noise of the game. At the top, he paused again to catch his breath, and to listen. A quick glance revealed another hallway, this one empty, but also familiar. Off to the left, at the end, was Blackadder's quarters. To the right was where his shuttle was retrieved. If they were able to beam him onboard, the controls must have been there.

At the beginning seemed as good a place as any to start, so he moved cautiously in that direction. He could see no other doors along the way, until he came to one at the end, partially open. On the other side he could see his shuttle, now upright in a corner. Silently moving into the room, he could see a control board with navigational readings, and communication equipment. However, this did not appear to be the main control room, as he could see no means of steering the ship. He could make out a tractor beam control board, verifying how they captured him.

While all of this was well and good, it did nothing to help Bob figure out a means of escape. He moved to the control board, hoping to pull up some information on escape pods or defense vessels that he could use to abandon ship-'_There!'_ Bob smiled as he pulled up a lifeboat roster, showing the locations of each of the six vessels. The closest was one deck up, on the port side. Bob was currently near the aft of the ship, on the starboard side. He had to travel maybe 10 meters, and with luck, he would be off the ship.

Where he would go from there was another story. But he would deal with that as it came.

Bob shut down the file with the escape pod info, and slowly made his way out of the room in the direction of the stairs. Once again, luck was on his side as he made it to the stairs and climbed up. From the diagram, he knew he needed to go right and then left two doors down, and from there he entered the small launch pad that housed the lifeboat.

"Huh," he whispered as he the door. "That was easy." He set down his pipe at the control panel, programming the release of the life boat in 3 nanos. As the timer counted down, Bob moved to the lifeboat. It was large enough to accommodate at least 20 sprites, and was designed with a compartment for food, water, spare clothing upgrades, and a small propulsion system to get the craft moving towards civilization.

Opening the pressure door to enter the boat, he had a sudden flashback of Dot, during a game they won together when they had their large and lasting fight. It was Starship Alcatraz, and Dot had barely managed to get the keycard from the escaped prisoner before the self-destruct reached zero. Bob frowned. Why would he think about that now?

He stepped inside and turned to close the hatch when he felt the presence in the room. Too late he turned to block the strike to his head, and he fell to the metal floor, seeing a flash of stars. _'Trap!'_ Bob's mind shouted uselessly, just like Dot used in that game.

He regained his bearings quickly enough to see the large object flying down at him, and he brought his arms up to block. Catching the baton between his crossed wrists, he kicked his leg out and tripped the sprite. Bob had a moment to recognize the sprite as the white bald one from yester-second before he was up and out the door, diving for the pipe he left at the control board.

It wasn't there.

"Looking for this?"

Bob spun around to see Centrino, Dolby, and the tall, gangly sprite leaning against the back wall. Centrino was spinning the pipe in his hands. "Well, I was, but I don't think I'm going to need it anymore."

"Yup," Dolby agreed, stepping forward. The three sprites approached from the front, and the fourth sprite was beginning to come out of the lifeboat. Dolby reached his hand out to grab Bob, and Bob feinted to the left, swinging a strong left hook into Dolby's jaw. The yellow sprite toppled backwards into Centrino, who fell into the wall.

This left the tall one who charged Bob, his fist pulled back to deliver a crushing blow with his metal knuckles. Stepping straight into him and turning his body, Bob grabbed the sprite's arm and used the momentum of his punch to flip him into the fourth sprite, causing both mercenaries to fall back into the lifeboat.

Bob's eyes caught the timer counting down to zero. If he wanted to escape, he had enough time to get into the life raft and close the door, but the mercenaries would be left at the mercy of the web's atmosphere upon its launch. His Guardian protocol kicked into overdrive, and he dove for the panel, frantically typing to abort the countdown.

"Launch aborted. Counter reset." Bob let out his breath at the comforting confirmation of the computer before his arms were seized and his hands pulled behind his back.

"It ain't nice to leave wit'out saying goodbye," Dolby mocked.

"Goodbye!" Bob replied cheerfully as he knocked his head back into Dolby's, stunning the sprite long enough for Bob to get his feet on the control board and push them both back onto the floor. Dolby threw out his arms to break his fall, and Bob rolled off him just as 'Knuckles' drove a punch down toward Bob, hitting Dolby's stomach instead.

Bob punched 'Knuckles' across the face, used a side block against Centrino as he attacked from the right, then flipped him down on top of Dolby as he tried to rise. Centrino's legs came down across the top of 'Knuckles' back, driving him back to the floor as well. Bob half turned at the shout that came from behind, and he grabbed the fourth sprite by his shirt and lifted him up and over, causing him to land on his back on top of his downed companions.

All four groaned as they collided, and Bob made a hasty retreat for the door.

Bursting through, he ran towards the stairs, sliding down the banisters to the deck below. He saw no one to the left but was punched from the right as he turned, and he tumbled down the next flight of stairs, landing on his back and struggling for air. He noticed the openness of the room, and realized he wasn't on the crew quarters deck anymore. Glancing to his left, he groaned silently.

He had only managed to gain the attention of the 20 some sprites in the dinning hall. Though he fought gallantly, it didn't take long for him to be overrun by the mercenaries, and he soon found himself back in his cell, unable to remember how he had gotten there. Several new bruises and a gash along his arm gave him a clue. Sighing, he sat up on the bench and dropped his head back against the wall.

'_Back to the paint window.'_

/

Seconds turned into cycles, cycles into minutes. The routine was getting monotonous, and Bob's patience was beginning to crack. Each second started the same: He would be woken to do something around the ship, an opportunity would present itself for him to escape, he would get close, get busted, a fight would break out, and he would end up back in his cell, a little worse for wear, but never worse than the other sprites. He always managed to get the best of them, and they seemed to keep coming back for more.

The only time anything went differently was when they ported to a system, but Bob never knew what happened then. He was kept in his cell for seconds at a time, only seeing sprites that brought him food. By his count, they had visited four systems in the past 3 minutes.

What was driving Bob to insanity was their treatment of him. With all the fights he started, all the damage he caused, all the trouble he raised, they never roughed him up worse than a few kicks and punches, with the occasional knock out by Tower or Centrino. They always gave him the chance to escape, as if to see if he would go for it, and he always did. Much to their amusement, it seemed.

Bob was pacing back and forth in his cell, unable to sleep, these thoughts constantly running in circles behind his eyes. _'Why?'_ he thought. He remembered what Blackadder had said. _'You'll be a fun one.'_ Was this supposed to be the fun part? Driving him random with their mocking gestures of freedom?

Bob had to give them credit. It was working.

He paused as he thought of their leader. He hadn't seen or spoken with the red sprite since he first arrived. He had told Bob he would find a way to make him useful. And yet, he had done nothing so far to make good on that threat… as far as he knew.

Bob sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair that had grown past his ears. The silver strands snagged on his hand, and he worked his hand out gently, before grimacing at the dirty bandaged that was beginning to peal from the meaty part of his hand between his thumb and first finger. His chaotic thoughts paused as he stared at the patch…

…"_You're going to run me out of supplies, ya know," the old sprite reprimanded him as he again treated the newest wound from Bob's last attempted escape. "Keep this up, and I'll have no choice but to let you bleed to death." _

"_I didn't ask for your help," Bob snapped before he could catch himself. The sprite paused in his treatment, and Bob muttered an apology. "I'm just tired," he tried to justify his rudeness. _

"_Forget it."_

_But Bob couldn't forget it. "Why do you keep doing this?" He stared at the numerous scars on his arms, his Guardian uniform torn in more places than he cared to admit. The scars told of his struggles for freedom, though many of them were nearly faded from this sprite's kind ministering. _

"_Because it's my format, and I can't go against my programming," the sprite answered simply. "And because I want to."_

_Bob looked up at him in surprise. "You want to? Everyone else on this cursed ship hates Guardians, why are you so different?"_

_The sprite laughed. "I've never heard one sprite on here say he hated Guardians."_

"_Have you talked with Blackadder, lately?"_

_The sprite mellowed at the mention of the leader. "You just don't understand him yet."_

"_I don't want to get to understand him, I want to leave," Bob argued._

"_So you've told me, hundreds of times." The sprite finished the bandage and moved Bob's arm at the shoulder. "Feel ok?"_

"_Yes. Hundreds of times, huh? Funny, you've treated me so much, and I don't even know your name."_

_The sprite turned down to his ever present bag and closed it. He looked back up at Bob, leaned one arm on his knee, and stuck out his right hand. "Fair enough. Guardian Bob, they call me Patch."_

_Bob took his hand in a firm shake. "Patch. Rather fitting."_

"_Indeed," Patch said with a smile. "And now I will bid you good night."_

"_You still didn't tell me why you're helping me all the time."_

_Patch shrugged as he shut the cell door. "I guess," he said, staring at Bob with his soft lavender eyes, "you remind me of someone I knew, a long time ago." With that, he nodded, and headed off to his quarters…_

In the growing despair of his seemingly hopeless situation, Bob took comfort in the knowledge of the one thing he was sure of: he had a friend in the medic. Though they didn't talk much, he provided Bob with a sense of comfort, and the willingness to keep trying to get out, if for no other reason than to take the aged sprite with him. Bob couldn't believe he was willing to stay with these mercenaries on his own terms. He was too different…

So caught up in his thoughts, Bob never heard the footsteps come up to his cell. He jumped at the voice.

"Can't sleep either, huh?"

Bob smiled slightly. "Guess it's just one of those nights."

"Thinking about home?" Patch asked.

Bob's smile faded. "Not as much as you might think," Bob remarked, slightly surprised at the truth in the statement. "I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing here."

"Wearing a hole in the floor," Patch smirked.

Bob rolled his eyes at him. "That's not what I meant." He walked over to the bars and leaned against them across from Patch. "Why is this crew toying with me? This is like some big game, and damnit, I keep losing."

Patch smiled, but said nothing.

"My misery amusing you, too?"

Patch tilted his head. "You don't seem miserable. I've seen prisoners much worse off than you. You've still got a sense of humor."

"Exactly!" Bob proclaimed. "I'm not that bad off. Why? Why am I not chained to a wall and beaten with sticks or dragged out behind the ship in the web?"

Patch's eyebrows shot up. "Wow, you want us to do that to you? You've got a dark side, don't ya, Guardian?"

"What? No! I'm saying I don't understand why you _haven't_ done that. I mean, isn't that what the bad guys do to the heroes? Pillage, torture, make people beg for mercy?"

Patch stared at him for a long moment. His face was neutral, but his mind seemed to be turning behind his eyes. "You think we're the bad guys?"

The question surprised Bob. "You have a Guardian prisoner. What do you think?"

Patch said nothing more as he opened the cell and walked away.

Bob stared at the open door and didn't know what to do. _ 'What kind of a trick was this?'_

"You coming?" Patch's voice called from the end of the hall.

Warily, Bob stepped out, looking around for a surprise attack from every dark corner. He stepped carefully up behind Patch, who lead him up to the crew quarters deck. Five doors down, they turned into a large area with several beds. Medical supplies lined the walls. Patch gestured toward an empty bunk and offered it up as a seat. Bob chose to stand. He did take the offered cup of Bandit Backup Patch handed to him.

"They are placing bets on you."

"What?" Bob asked, unsure if he heard correctly.

"The crew. It's a way of passing the time. They place bets on how long it'll take you to break out, how many sprites you can take down at once, how long until you go random. You name it, they're betting on it."

"So this is a game," Bob muttered.

Patch settled on another bunk across from him. "Well, not in the sense that you think."

Bob tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Patch took a swig and smiled. "You'll learn. Eventually." He laughed at the sullen look on Bob's face. "It'll all make sense in the end. But it helps to recognize that you are being taken care of here, and that you could have it much worse."

"Yeah, being taken care of like a pet, given commands, expected to obey, and reprimanded when out of line…" Bob flinched as he recalled what Tower had told him after being brought onboard. _'I am not a pet!' 'That's what you think, but you'll soon learn.'_

"Even pets have places of honor in the family."

"Ok, Phong." Bob's hand paused in the air as he went to take a drink. At Patch's confused stare, Bob only shook his head in reply. "Sorry, you sounded like someone I know."

"Oh." They sat in silence for a few moments, before Bob started looking around the room. "This is my quarters, the crew sickbay."

"No kidding."

Patch smirked. "It's a lot of work, tending to a crew of 30 sprites, especially with a brawler of a prisoner." He chose to ignore the glare from Bob as he walked over to a tiny desk. "I'm not as spry as I used to be, and I'm having a hard time keeping up with the work. I could use an extra pair of hands."

Bob stared at him. "Me?" He scoffed. "Yeah, right. Prisoner, remember? I break the sprites, not fix them."

"You mend and defend, do you not?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"What's the difference?"

"The difference is I help the people I care about."

Patch dropped his eyes to an open file on the table, where he started to make some notes. "People like those from your system?" He moved another file over.

"Yeah."

"And what about people like the crew?"

"This crew can get nullified, for all I care."

"And yet, when given the opportunity to delete a few "bad" mercenaries, you did everything you could to save them." He filed away another document and typed something on a small organizer on his desk, quite sure Bob had no idea what he was talking about. He looked up, confirming his thoughts from the confusion on Bob's face. "Did you not have the chance to delete four sprites by launching them into the atmosphere with that lifeboat during your first attempted escape?"

Bob's eyes lit up with recognition.

"And yet, the first thing you did when you noticed the count down was to prevent the launch, risking recapture, which did eventually happen. Am I wrong?"

"How did-"

"Did you think your escape easy, Guardian?"

Bob stared at him. "It was a trap."

"Yes, and we were watching, to see what you would do." Patch stepped around the desk to stand in front of him. "You can't go against your programming anymore than I can. 'To mend and defend,' and you did that, so naturally, in fact, you don't even remember doing it."

Bob could say nothing in reply.

"Even for those who would harm you, you still would put yourself in danger to save another. That is why I think you would be best suited working with me."

Bob had a hard time buying this. "And the rest of the crew would go along with it? Yeah, right."

"I wasn't the only one who saw what you did, Bob."

Bob's reply was cut off by a klaxon alarm. "INBOUND VESSEL, PORT SIDE!" a computer voice called out over the decks, and suddenly the silent hallways were filled with the clatter of boots and weapons.

Patch grabbed two large bags from the walls and tossed one to Bob. "Come on!"


	5. Into the Fold

Chapter 5: Into the Fold

They ran out into the hall, following the other sprites who were manning defense and repair stations. Bob followed Patch as he wound around through various rooms and stairs, until they came to the control deck. Inside, Bob counted five sprites at various control boards, and Blackadder standing at a central station, his face tight.

"Clunk, on screen!" he commanded. A large VidWindow appeared and a view of the web lit up the room. Inside the window, three small craft were bearing down on _The Escape _from the rear.

"Tower, report."

"Villanova attack squad, sir. Three lightweight bombers, minimal crew. They are gaining speed."

"Scrolloc, status."

"All weapons stations armed and ready for your command, sir."

"Numbloc, status."

"All repair stations online and standing by, sir."

"Estimated time to contact?"

"3 nanos, sir," Tower answered.

"Very well. All stations stand by."

Patch stepped up to the center console, allowing himself to fall into Blackadder's view, but saying nothing. The red sprite turned his head slightly, the faintest of smiles appearing as he caught sight of his medic. Then the golden eyes spotted Bob, and narrowed.

_'Great.'_ Bob tensed, waiting for the order for his apprehension. He watched a silent exchange between Captain and Medic, and with a short nod, Blackadder returned his eyes to the main screen.

"Sir, incoming fire!"

"Brace for impact! Dolby, conduct evasive maneuverings!"

Patch turned and ran to Bob, grabbing his arm and pulling them over to a wall with a short bench. "Lock yourself in, Lad, this is about to get interesting."

Bob barely had time to tighten his restraints when the ship picked up speed and began swaying in highly erratic patterns. Bob watched the screen as it tracked three inbound missiles.

"Release seductors!" Blackadder commanded.

The ship rocked forward as something launched from the back. "Port seductor launched!" Scrolloc confirmed. On screen, a large bobbing object caught fire and shot away from the ship, drawing the fire of one of the missiles and exploding in a burst of light. "Seductor one, successful."

"Status of starboard seductor?"

"Failure to engage, sir! Attempting alternate firing circuit!" Another rock of the ship signaled its launch, and a soft burst from overhead alerted its successful deployment.

"Second missile destroyed, third missile inbound!" Tower updated the control room.

"Open fire!" Blackadder ordered.

"All stations, fire at will!" Scrolloc repeated. High pitched whines filled the air as laser fire aimed for the incoming missile and the three small attack craft.

"Sir, confirmation that all three craft have been hit and erased, but missile has reached impact parameters!"

"Stand by for repair reports, brace for impact!" Blackadder ordered as he grasped his console. All sprites leaned into their stations, and Patch brought his hands over his head, Bob quickly following his example.

_Boom!_ "Direct hit, starboard side, storage room 3, 5, and 7 are damaged! Hull breech, pressure decreasing, possible fires, 10 sprites in impact area!" Tower reported.

"Repair station 3, begin evacuation of storage rooms 3, 5, and 7. Commence space lockdown, don web gear, prepare tools to mend multiple cracks along hull," Numbloc shouted over the klaxon alarms and the ship status updates of other sprites.

Bob felt a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go!" Patch yelled at him, getting his restraints undone and running for the door with his bag in tow. Bob followed, bumping along with other sprites running towards the damaged areas. Lights flashed and he could see smoke coming up from the stairwell. Patch ducked into a compartment that had an access ladder going down to the storage room decks, and Bob slid down the rails with him.

"All right, we can't go any further than this because of possible atmospheric contamination," Patch shouted at him, "but we're going to separate walking wounded from severely damaged. You get those that can walk to climb up the ladder and go for sickbay."

"What about you?" Bob yelled back.

"Don't worry about me, just get those sprites out of here!"

Three sprites in web gear ran past them, and soon returned with two sprites looking hurt but processing. Bob directed them up, and was soon caught up with helping three more that climbed out. Patch had run off but soon returned in his own gear, and grabbed Bob with his free hand.

"When they get out, you go up with them, and treat what you can. I'll be there soon!" At Bob's nod, he put on his helmet and ran into the smoking fray.

Over the next few nanos, four more sprites were dragged out, but were soon able to move on their own. Bob mentally checked off the numbers, and realized that one sprite hadn't come out. If 10 were down here during the blast, where was the other one? He grabbed a passing sprite and asked if there were any other injured, and the male shook his head. Pulling a portable light from the wall, he moved to the accessible storage rooms to confirm. In the last one, Storage 11, he found half the room caved in, but no hull breech. On the floor, the tall, gangly sprite he had fought with numerous times was unconscious, a gaping wound near his head.

Bob ran back out into the hallway, shouting at the top of his lungs and waving his arms frantically at the sprites trying to repair the forward rooms. Unsure if he got their attention, he grabbed the victim's arms and proceeded to slide him out the room. Just as he got past the door, he heard a soft groan, felt a rumble in the floor, and registered the sound of crumbling metal.

_'Breech!'_Bob thought just as a crack broke at the weakest point of the damaged metal. Thunder roared in his ears as the sudden suction of the atmosphere formed a small hole and lifted the injured sprite horizontally, attempting to pull him into its toxic embrace. Bob barely had time to grab onto a support bar in the hallway with his right arm, his left hand latched around the sprite's wrist as both were pulled into the room.

"Help!" he screamed, but his voice was sucked out into the web. His eyes caught sight of the button that would close and seal the door, but if he tried to close it now, he would lose his arm. If he let go, he could pull himself in… but only himself.

Digging deep into his format for strength, he took a deep breath and pulled as hard as he could, but the atmospheric pressure was too great. He could feel his body digging into the door frame, cutting through his clothes and into his skin. At the same time, his fingertips could feel the sprite slowly being pulled from his grasp.

"No!" Bob screamed, pulling again, to no avail. _'User, help me!'_ Bob prayed as his hand began to lose its strength, his grip began to slip, the sprite drifted closer to deletion…

A heavy weight settled on his shoulders, followed by vice like grips around his waist and arm. Suddenly, he was being pulled backwards into the ship, the injured sprite with him, and nanoseconds later, he was lying on his side, the sprite to the right of him, and the roaring thunder dying under the hiss of the door sealing shut.

"Get them up to sickbay, now!" Bob barely managed to hear over the ringing in his ears. He looked up at Patch, his helmet gone and his face set as he gave orders to three suited sprites that moved Bob and his companion onto small stretchers. As Bob bounced along the smoky hallway, he drifted away into darkness.

/

Bob woke with pain and dizziness. He groaned as struggled to open his eyes, confusion setting in when he didn't recognize his surroundings. As his vision cleared, his eyes roamed from the white pillow up to the ceiling with dim lights. This didn't look like his cell, and the softness of the mattress confirmed his assumptions. He turned to his right, wincing at the pain along his right side, and counted three other beds, currently unoccupied.

He was in the sickbay, and it looked like he was alone. "Patch?" he whispered, unprepared for the hoarse and weak sound.

"He'll be back shortly."

Bob looked back to the left, shocked to find the bed next to him occupied by a crisscross-legged companion sitting on the sheets, looking rather bored.

"Surprised to see me?" Blackadder asked lightly.

Bob eased himself back down onto the mattress. "To say the least," he muttered.

"Not as surprised as I am to see you."

Bob's hand covered his eyes, rubbing at them as if it would stop the pounding in his head. "Alive or outside of my "quarters"?" he asked, too tired to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"Still on board." The captain examined his hand, picking at some dirt under a fingernail. "There you were, on your own, the crew running rampant to save the ship, and you didn't make a run for a life boat. Seems like odd behavior for someone so eager to get home."

Bob remained silent, realizing for the first time that the thought had never crossed his mind.

"You saved Backup's life, you know. If you hadn't found him when you did, he'd be deleted in the web right now. And that's the second time you've saved him." Blackadder stopped his inspection and settled his gold eyes on Bob. "Why?"

"You know why," Bob answered tiredly. "It's my format, and I can't go against my programming."

"Horse shift."

Bob looked at the captain, thrown off guard by the strong out burst.

"The User may have given you a format, but he also gave you free will. You are just as capable as any other creature to make your own decisions. So spare me this "I am bound by my code" shift." He leaned forward on the bed. "Why did you save Backup? Why save those sprites the first night you tried to escape?"

"Because I don't believe in deleting others." Bob stared back at Blackadder, his voice as strong as he could manage. "And because it was the right thing to do."

"You'd do it again?"

"Yes."

"At the cost of your own freedom."

"Yes."

Blackadder whistled softly and shook his head. "You are different from the other Guardians."

"I've been telling you that from the start," Bob argued, his voice rising in irritation. "Though I still don't believe what you're implying about the others."

"You'll find out, Guardian, probably sooner than you think. Certainly sooner than you'll want." He swung his legs out and they dangled just above the floor. He bowed his head as he leaned his hands into the mattress, looking more like a young sprite than a mercenary captain. "You've proven me wrong, Guardian. I thought all of them were the same, but you've given me hope that they are not." His golden eyes turned up to meet Bob's brown ones. "You have shown a strength and dedication to your morals that has shocked me over and over again. It's rather refreshing, and is welcome as part of this ship and crew, if you wish it."

Bob frowned. "What are you saying?"

"I am offering you a place here, an honorary position as our Guardian."

"How do I put this delicately? No," Bob answered flatly.

Blackadder stared at him, his lip twitching slightly at the callus rejection of the offer, before he burst out into a long laugh. "You are strong, resourceful, bull-headed, and cocky to a fault, but your intentions are noble. I have no right to be so selfish as to keep such a fine gentleman as yourself here when your system needs you. We will be at our next port within a second. There, we will help you in whatever way to get you home. I give you my word."

Bob stared up in surprise at the versatile sprite. "Thank you."

He shrugged and picked up some fruit off a nearby table. "It's what I had been planning to do, anyway, if you didn't want to stay," he responded, his tone flippant as he started to juggle the fruit.

Bob was almost distracted by the playful display. "What?"

"When I knew you were clean. I had no intention of letting you into a system if you were just going to abandon it."

"Clean? I don't understand."

"Yep, we don't really, either. We've only received bits and pieces from the systems we've ported, but the rumor is Guardians are becoming sick, and that is why they are going back to the SuperComputer." He missed a fruit, became disoriented, and dropped the others. He glared at them, the offensive fruit obviously to blame. "Some are even whispering that it's not illness, but infection."

Bob's gut tightened at the word. "Guardian code is meant to resist that." '_Unless it was something big. Something _very_ big'._ "Is that who attacked us? Infected Guardians?"

Blackadder looked up at him, and his attitude shifted from casual to serious. Placing his elbows on his knees, he leaned closer to Bob. "We haven't come across any Guardians in the web, except for you." He shook his head. "No, those were guards, from Villanova."

"A system?"

"A prison. The largest prison I've ever heard of, and tucked away in some dark corner of the web."

"I've never heard of it."

"Most people haven't. It's a place where you go, and never leave."

"That nice, huh?" Bob cracked.

"No," Blackadder countered softly, all joking gone from his voice. "That bad. They say it's a living hell, and that those who escape are never the same."

Bob couldn't help but feel skeptical at the dramatic description. "Have you been there?"

Blackadder shook his head. "No. But I know someone who has."

Bob picked up the subtle shift in the Captain, sensing the subject was not an easy one. "Why did the guards attack? Are they after you for raiding a system?"

The mood lightened as the Captain laughed. "Once again, we are not pirates, we do not raid anybody. But our line of work is not why they attacked."

"Then why?"

Blackadder shrugged. "Because they can." At Bob's confused stare, he continued. "They operate outside of systems, Guardian. They operate outside of the SuperComputer, away from any kind of jurisdiction. No one is patrolling the Web… except for them. And what they say and do is law.

"We stay out of their way, and we carry on. It's worked for hours, it will continue to work after you leave." He hopped off the bed. "And until we get to that system, you should rest, let that gash in your side heal." He placed a hand on Bob's shoulder. "Captain's orders."

Bob nodded.

With a smile, he turned and walked out.

Bob leaned back into the bed, closing his eyes with a sigh. He pictured Mainframe, pictured his friends, pictured his Dot running into his embrace upon his return… and drifted into a restful slumber.

/

It was several microseconds later that he awoke, his body stiff and needing a stretch. Carefully, he eased himself from the bed, taking a moment to look for Patch while he rotated his right shoulder. Again, he was alone. Swinging his legs over the edge, he stepped to the floor and stretched out his back. He groaned at the pain in his back and left arm, the muscles strained from his earlier heroics. It occurred to him he didn't know how long ago "earlier" had been, and decided to head to the dinning hall to see about getting something to eat.

Perhaps if everyone was asleep, he wouldn't have any problems with the crew. Just because Blackadder welcomed him, didn't mean the rest of them did.

The lights were on, and noises from the room gave him warning that he wouldn't be alone. Looking around the corner, he could see several crew members sharing drinks and telling stories. The Guardian looked for the medic, but had no joy in his search. Electing to head back up to the sickbay, Bob smacked his head into something solid.

More precisely, someone solid.

He looked up into the smiling white face of Backup, the sprite who's metal knuckles he had come to know quite well, and who he had helped in the storage room after the attack. Bob smiled back, his fists tensing at his side in preparation for battle.

He wasn't prepared for the bear hug he received, the long arms applying enough pressure to his ribs to crack them.

"Sleeping Beauty awakes!" Backup yelled and allowed Bob's feet back on the floor. He clasped the Guardian's shoulders. "You look starved. Cooky!" He spun Bob around and pushed him into the room.

Bob's world went chaotic as he was swept up in multiple hugs, hand shakes, pats on the back, and roaring cheers. Before he could process what was happening, he was pushed down at a table, and a hot plate was pressed in front of him. His ears exploded with questions and compliments.

"How did you know where Backup was?"

"What took you so long to get down here?"

"You are a lot stronger than you look, boy!"

"Eat up, there's a lot more where that came from!"

"I won 200 chips that you would knock out Tower in one hit!"

"And I won that 200 back when Tower returned the gesture the next second!"

Bob held up his hands, trying to get some clarity on who was talking when. The gush of attention was overwhelming, and he didn't know where to look first.

"Hey, hold it down, men, the boy's trying to speak!"

The room quieted at Centrino's command, and Bob looked at him gratefully. He opened his mouth to speak, and found he had no idea what to say.

"Looks like you knocked the speech out of him," Dolby remarked to Tower, and everyone laughed.

"No, I think it was just my sanity," Bob replied. He looked around in confusion, his hands in a wide gesture at the crowd around him. "Why…"

The men looked at each other for a moment then burst into laughter again. "I think he would feel more comfortable if we were beating the shift outta him!" Clunk shouted, and the others cheered in agreement.

"No... well, yeah, maybe…" Bob denied, then agreed, then scratched his head.

"Not tonight, he's been through enough." The crowd parted as Patch came over to sit down across from him. "And I'm not wasting anymore medical supplies on this rookie."

"Rookie?" Bob's indignant response was lost again in the noise, but he could take no offense by the lightness in Patch's eyes. The medic waved at the large sprites, shooing them away from the table. "Let the sprite eat in peace!" he scolded.

Again, Bob was amazed as the sprites let them be, but not before each passed him with a pat on the shoulder, a light punch to the arm, or a ruffling of his hair, a gesture he struggled to avoid, much to the amusement of the crew. When the medic and Guardian were alone, the old man encouraged him to eat.

"What is going on?" Bob asked.

Patch shrugged. "They are just welcoming you to the family. Congratulations, you are one of us now."

Bob paused in his eating. "But I'm not staying here."

"I know. They know. But you are still one of us, and always will be."

"Because I saved a sprite?"

"Because you did a lot of things, and saving Backup's bitmap was one of them."

Bob shook his head. "You are a random group of sprites, you know that? You keep me prisoner, you play games with me, now you treat me like a guest of honor. How did you survive the Web for so long?"

Patch only smiled at him with that same patient, annoyingly unhelpful smile that was beginning to drive Bob mad. "How's the food?"

Bob rolled his eyes. "Fine, thank you."

"Your head?"

"Getting better."

"Your arm?"

"I'll live."

"Your patience?"

"Wearing thin by the nano."

Patch grinned at him. "I couldn't tell."

Bob scoffed at him, hiding a smile as he finished his drink. He pushed his plate away. "Now what happens?"

"I want to show you something."

/

A sinking feeling developed in his stomach as he stepped back into his cell. "So, is this the part where you slam the door shut and tell me this has all been part of this mysterious "game" of yours?"

"No," Patch countered, "this is where I tell you to lay down and figure the game out yourself."

Bob shot the medic a bewildered look. The old sprite leaned casually back on the bench with his feet crossed at the ankles and arms across his chest, staring back at him. "You're serious."

"Yep. Here," he handed the Guardian a small light. "Look under the bench."

'_Well, you've done stranger things,'_ Bob thought as he got down on the floor and shinned the light up at the wood. "What am I supposed to be looking for, exactly?" Silence greeted Bob, and he sighed. "You know, it wouldn't surprise me if this is some random joke you play for kicks-" Bob stopped as his light passed over a carving.

Not just a carving. A name.

Scrolloc.

Below it was another one. Numloc.

Bob's light went up, his fingers tracing the wood as he read the names. Dolby. Centrino. Clunk. Tower. Patch.

And below the medic's name was his own.

"It's not a joke, Bob. It's a rite of passage."

Bob slid out, his eyes locking on the medic.

"You are not the first sprite who's been found in the web. There are many strange things out here, and strange people. It would be wrong to leave anyone to the mercy of the unknown, but we can't put our crew at risk. Blackadder won't do that to his family."

"So you, what, _test_ the people you find?"

He shrugged. "You can call it that. We didn't know your intentions, or your programming, or your level of sanity. Now we do."

"And if my intentions were otherwise?"

"We would have turned you in a long time ago at any one of the ports we visited."

Bob shook his head. "It's not right."

"It's survival."

"For who?" Bob argued. "These men aren't struggling."

"It's always a struggle in the web."

"Then stop living here! You go to systems all the time, yet you don't stay. Why?"

"Because we made this our home, when we had no other home to go to." Patch leaned forward. "These sprites were lost, Guardian. Like I told you from the beginning, we have no homes to go to anymore. Each sprite here was found, tested, and welcomed into a home he earned. Every sprite on board has experienced terrible pain and loss, but in the darkest depression, found the will to survive, and the drive to keep fighting, no matter the cost. They found a place among those who understand. There is a bond on this ship, among this crew, that you won't find anywhere else, not even among your Guardians."

Bob looked sharply at Patch, softly denying him. "How would you know?" He stood and walked over to the bars.

"If you were to stay, you'd see that," Patch ignored him. "But you are lucky that you can return to your home. It is true that we could stay at any system, if we wanted. The point is, we don't."

"But why?" Bob turned to him, leaning against the bars. "Why not start over?"

Patch stared at him for a long moment. "Because sometimes starting over is nothing more than another chance to fail."

No further discussion continued as their voices were drowned out by the klaxon alarm. The two raced from the cell up to the combat deck, where Blackadder was barking commands to prepare for the inbound attack of a surge of Villanova ships. Upon seeing his medic, the red sprite whispered something urgent in his ear, and Patch nodded. Turning, he pulled Bob from the center and led him down to the sickbay.

"Patch, what's going on?"

"Give me your icon," he pressed as he rifled through his desk.

"Why-"

"Don't argue." Patch pulled a square icon from a drawer and held out his hand. "Now."

Bob disconnected the black and gold icon, handing it over silently. He watched as Patch brought the two discs up near each other, and a data stream was transferred from his to Bob's. When the exchange completed, he tossed Bob's icon back.

"Change, now." Bob stared at him, confused. "Your clothes, change to what I just gave you."

Two taps to his icon left him in a brown and black leather outfit, the shirt long sleeved and the pants tucked into knee high brown boots that no longer bore the Mainframe icon on each side.

Patch waved his hand at Bob, gesturing for the icon to be given back. "You can't wear the gold and black icon," he explained when Bob hesitated, "just like you can't wear your Guardian uniform."

"You want me to lie about being a Guardian?"

Patch nodded. "Bob, did you see the number of ships out there? We can try to out run them, but we can't out gun them. If we are boarded, you need to be one of us."

"What? They'll arrest me right along with you! At least as a Guardian I might be able to talk them out of it."

"They will arrest you either way," Patch hissed. "This is not the SuperComputer, Bob, justice and morals are not in abundance out here!" He again motioned for the icon. "But if you show up announcing yourself as a Guardian, you will become _their_ special guest of honor, and I guarantee, you will _never_ see your system again."

The ship rocked with a sudden blast. Patch locked eyes with the Guardian, silently pleading with him to trust him.

"What's going to happen to us, Patch?" Bob asked.

"We are going to survive."

Another volley of fire hit the stern, and objects crashed and lights flickered as the ship shook. Suddenly, the engines died out, and the ship began to list. Patch looked around then back at his companion.

"Bob. Please."

Bob's grip tightened on the icon in his hand. What if Patch was wrong? What if telling them he was a Guardian allowed him faster passage home? His heart sank as he realized how close he had come to back to Mainframe. His dream from just that second came back, the image of Dot running into his arms, her hands stroking his face as she looked up at him with such relief, her gentle fingers pulling his head down to hers...

… now to cruelly be ripped away from him again. As the despair began to grow inside him, he realized he couldn't let himself give up hope of getting back to her. He would do whatever it took to survive.

Just like Patch said.

He handed him his icon, which Patch hid under his own on his belt.

"I'm sorry, my friend," Patch whispered. "The fun and games are over. Now the real fight begins."


	6. Moving Forward

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to andrewjeeves. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 6: Moving Forward

The fire was dwindling away, the room slowly darkening in its dying light. Bob stared at the cooling embers. Dot laid behind him, draped across the couch, one arm propping up her head as she listened quietly. It was only after a long pause that she spoke up for the first time in the past few microseconds.

"They took you prisoner?" she asked softly, the words hard for her to say aloud.

Bob nodded. His voice was flat, but his body was tight with the emotion of his memories. "The crew fought back, and many were deleted in the effort, but we were outnumbered…" His voice dropped away, and silence fell again on the two sprites.

Dot's heart clenched at the mix of emotions passing over his face as he stared at the fire. The wounds were still raw, and Dot found herself in shame for forcing him to share this with her. She placed her hand on his head, stroking her fingers through the long, degraded strands. "Bob." Her hand cupped his chin, bringing his face to hers when he didn't respond. "Hey," she whispered, "Look at me."

His hand grasped hers against his cheek, but his eyes remained down. "Dot…"

"Whatever happened, Bob, it's over now. You're here. You're home. Nothing out there is going to hurt you anymore."

"It's not what's out there that I'm afraid of."

Dot's gaze sharpened on him. "You're not afraid of anything. You're a Guardian." His eyes finally met hers, and Dot's mouth went dry at the haunted look in the brown depths.

"A Guardian." His gaze dropped from hers once again. "I wasn't a Guardian there. I couldn't be…"

"Bob." She slid off the couch to sit in front of him, both hands cradling his face.

"Six minutes, Dot. We were there for six minutes. We needed to escape. I… Dot, I did things…," he pleaded with her, his voice becoming edgy with his need to make her understand. The breath caught in his chest as he remembered having this same conversation with Matrix on the_ Saucy Mare_, comforting the renegade with the reality that he did what he had to do. Perhaps Bob could have believed himself, if not for the reboot of the little sprite Enzo, who looked up to him like a father.

She pulled him into a tight embrace, stroking his hair as she soothed him. "I know, Bob. You had to do what was necessary. We all had to do things we didn't want to do… to survive." She could feel him resisting her attempts at comfort, so she pressed forward in the hope of pulling him from his distress. "You said you escaped. Is that how you met the Web Riders?"

Bob let out a long exhale. "Yes, in a way. They were also prisoners. We helped each other…" He shook his head. "I gave them freedom, and they gave me hope of finding Mainframe." Bob looked at her, and she could see the pain in his eyes ebbing away. "They let me ride with them to their colonies. They live in the web, Dot, in groups like mini-systems, and they survive. They helped me adapt as we went from colony to colony, trying to find a way to Mainframe. The web is so big, though… we didn't know if we would ever find it. Then we ran into _The Saucy Mare_."

To Dot's surprise, Bob let out a soft laugh. "It's rather funny now, and a little scary, actually. We would never have seen the ship if it hadn't been for the baby web creature they were chasing." At Dot's confused look, he explained the hunt for the creature that had bitten AndrAIa. "The Web Riders understand the creatures, are able to talk and live with them. Well, the tame ones, at least." Dot's shocked stare made Bob chuckle again. "I know, who would have thought there could be domestic web creatures? Anyway, one of the Riders caught a distress cry from the creature, and when they realized it was being hunted, they went after the attackers. They could have destroyed the ship and taken the crew hostage to serve time on one of the mining colonies, but when I came on board, I recognized it instantly. The ship, and Enzo."

Dot's hand caressed his shoulder. "Were you as shocked as I was?"

"Oh, yeah. He'd grown so much…" Bob looked at her, his eyes suddenly becoming sad. "If we hadn't crossed that web creature, if it never bit AndrAIa, we might have sailed right past each other and never known it."

A shudder went through Dot at the thought of them never meeting in the Web. Enzo would be sailing aimlessly, Bob still a member of the Web Riders, Megabyte still in Mainframe. "What happened to the crew of _The Escape_?"

Bob's eyes faded a little. "I don't think they made it." His head ducked away, his voice going soft. "I know Patch didn't."

"Bob," she sighed in sorrow, "I'm so sorry."

"I asked the Web Riders to look for them across the Web, in case they managed to get away. We… we got separated…"

Dot could hear the guilt creeping into his voice, and she turned his face to hers. "No," she ordered. "Don't do this to yourself. You can't change what's happened. You have to keep looking forward. You survived. You did what you could to come back to us and because of this, you saved Mainframe." She stroked his chin and smiled. "You saved me. Whenever you doubt yourself, look at me. Look and remember that everything we have now is because of you, Guardian."

"I can't forget, Dot…"

"And you won't. But the pain will ease." She leaned into him, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, brushing her lips against his as she whispered, "And you have new memories to look forward to."

"Like what?" he whispered back.

Dot pulled back from him slightly, her eyes holding his. Gently, she reached for his hand, bringing it up to her icon. She silenced him when he whispered her name, pressing his hand against her PID with three taps. "Kiss me," she commanded softly.

The chill of the evening on her skin was quickly replaced by the heat of his kiss on her lips. Her hands trailed over the silver of his suit as she reached for his icon. With the comfort of his arms wrapping around her slender frame, she let herself be guided gently back onto the floor.

/

The room was dark save for a pale blue light through the curtains. Soft, steady breathing and an occasional rustle of sheets provided the only break to the silence. It was strange for him, the unfamiliar feel of the bed, the different lighting, the various noises, but he knew these weren't the reasons why he could not sleep.

Rolling onto his side, he propped his head up to look down at the sprite resting next to him. Her face was completely relaxed, her fingers curled next to her head on the pillow. Unruly strands of dark green hair, now black in the shadows, fell across her forehead, covering her eyes. Bob gently brushed his fingers across her brow, moving the soft strands away. They continued down her face, barely touching her cheek and curving down around her jaw. For a moment, he stared at her lips, parted in slumber, as he lapsed into the memories of the power of her kiss.

As intoxicating as those memories were, Bob could not keep the Web at bay. Dot was right; he had done whatever was necessary to come back. And he had done it all for her. Unbidden, Patch's voice whispered in his ear from that dark time in his past, when Bob's hope was nearly destroyed… _'You must find something to live for, and fight for it with all of your core.'_ Bob knew what he wanted to live for, no, _who_ he wanted to live for. She would never know how heavily he relied on her memory to survive. He didn't want her to know how close he had come to giving up…

But Bob wasn't comforted now by the beautiful face that had kept him processing. Softly caressing her jaw line again, Patch's voice rose from the darkness, his words striking a chord of fear in the Guardian's heart. _'… Fight with all of your core,'_ he told Bob. _'Then, learn to live with the consequences.'_

Staring down at the sprite he had come to love with all of his heart, he wondered if he truly could. He knew he was safe from the horrors of the web, yet he felt like he would never be able to stop running from his past. His eyes closed with the weight of the memories that clicked through his mind like a looping QuickTime movie. The cells, the yards, the energy on his hands, _her _chamber…

He snapped from those dark places at a touch on his face, terrified for the brief moment that he was back there, that he was reliving the nightmare again.

"Bob, it's ok! It's just me."

Dot's soft voice broke through his haze, and he realized he must have reacted to her touch.

"You were systems away." Dot stroked his face, moving closer to see as much of him as she could in the dark room. "Were you dreaming of the Web?"

"Something like that," he whispered.

Her hand moved through his hair, cradling the back of his head. "What can I do?"

The request was so simple in its purpose, yet so powerful in pulling him back from the edge of his dark memories. Staring into her eyes, he felt his breath leave him as he tried to comprehend how he had come to be loved by such a strong sprite. He didn't deserve her, of this he was sure, but he was going to work for it every second for the rest of his life. And to begin, he had to lock away the Web, because Dot was right. It could hurt him no more.

Lifting his hand to her face, he leaned down to kiss her softly. When she opened to him, his hand drifted down along her neck, up over her shoulder, down her bare arm and around her back to rest on the soft, warm skin of her hip. His heart raced at the soft moan his touch drew from her. Deepening the kiss, the taste of her lips slowly driving him random, he pressed her down into the mattress as he moved closer into her open arms.

The Web bothered him no more that night.

/

Sulfur. Heat. Murky darkness broken by glowing flames of torch light. Screams of sorrow, pain, and madness echoed off the stone walls, the sounds accompanied by the creak of metal hinges, the slap of a whip, the heavy footsteps of the guards, and the scraping of his boots against the cracked floor as he was dragged. His head was spinning from the multiple blows he took when he was boarded, but he felt no pain. He knew he would never feel pain again. He was at peace.

He had heard the Word.

Asterisk didn't notice the discomfort of his body while he was hauled further into the prison. He wasn't aware of the suffering that dripped from the walls. He only felt the love of the SuperVirus, and the pressing need to carry out her order. He was not worried about where he was going, because he had Daemon's love to protect him.

The hallway opened into a large room adorned with colorful tapestries and lavish furniture. Upon the tables were various pieces of gold and jewelry, and a large bed that was adorned with the thickest, softest looking blankets he'd every laid eyes upon. On the far wall, under a bright light, was a small metal cabinet with an intricate design carved in the doors. Inside, he could see the glint of light off of small, oddly shaped objects. He recognized them as keys.

In the center of the room, on a large red rug, he was dropped onto his knees. The guards stepped back, falling to one knee and lowering their heads. Asterisk attempted to look up, but a strong hand grasped the back of his neck and forced him to look at the floor.

"The prisoner from the unauthorized ship," one of the guards spoke. "The only item on him was this data cube." The guard placed it on the floor before him.

"Very well. Step outside."

Asterisk smiled as the two guards rose and left. The voice that had commanded them to do so was soft and deep, but not half as lovely as the voice of his Lady. No one would ever come close to being as beautiful as his Lady. His eyes closed as he pictured her face, her flowing hair, her luminous eyes…

"What is your name, young one?"

"Asterisk," he answered softly.

"You are a Guardian."

"Yes."

"You have entered my domain without authority."

He heard the soft footsteps come in front of him, felt a finger under his chin as it tilted his head back. A simple question entered his ears.

"Why?"

"I am on a quest for my Lady Daemon," he answered, still imagining her face behind his closed eyes.

"Who?"

At that, his vision broke as his eyes shot open, his ears shocked to hear of one who did not know the Word. He stared hard at the sprite before him, searching her face for any sign of jest. Her beautiful features gave no indication she was anything but sincere.

"Do not be afraid," Asterisk soothed her, "for it is only a matter of time before everyone hears the word. Soon, you too will be apart of us."

The green eyes narrowed at him. "I have no idea what you are talking about, but I guarantee you that I will be apart of nothing." Her finger left his chin and grazed along his jaw, her eyes searching his face. "You are a very handsome sprite," she complimented, her smile indicating she liked the tall, purple Guardian. "You look so strong, and you have so much confidence. You must be very good at your missions."

"That is why my Lady chose me."

"Yes, for a special quest, you said?" The female sprite moved gracefully to her knees in front of him, her red robes bunching up around her long, slender legs. "What quest is that?"

"To find Guardian 452 and bring him to her."

"A missing Guardian? Is that all?" the tanned sprite mocked. "How hard can that be?"

"He was lost in the Web, and we have been unable to locate his code or his keytool in any of the systems. I offered to come out here to find him, and bring him home."

The sprite scoffed, leaning back on her hands and looking at him in mild boredom, her robe opening along the front to show off a red decorated top and a smooth, toned stomach. "How sweet," she drawled. "Hoping you'll get a medal?"

Asterisk shook his head. "No, I only want to help bring unity to the Net."

The woman raised one shapely eyebrow at him. "Unity?"

"Yes, it is the way of the Word, and it must be done. All Guardians are tasked with brining unity to the Net, to bring Daemon to everyone." He tilted his head and gazed at her with a warm smile. "If you know where Bob might be, Daemon will welcome you into her heart and share with you the Word."

A loud laugh, full of mirth, burst from the beautiful sprite. "Oh, she has you wrapped around her finger doesn't she? I admire that in a woman," she mocked, her green eyes flashing. "But you are not in luck, _Hero_. There are no Guardians here, and there haven't been." She lifted a hand to admire her red nails in the fire light. "If there had been, I would have enjoyed him immensely," she purred. Her gaze shifted to him. "You, however, are another story."

"But I cannot stay," Asterisk declined with a shake of his head. "I must get back to my mission. I cannot fail my lady." The smile on his face died away when his throat was clutched in the woman's grasp.

"This _lady_," she spat, "is no longer your concern." She moved her face closer, lightly rubbing her cheek against his. "You have a new lady to serve now," she whispered darkly. With a thrust of her arm, and an incredible strength her frame hid, she pushed the Guardian onto the floor and placed herself across his hips.

"You cannot resist the Word," Asterisk panted as air came back into his lungs, feebly attempting to move off of the arms pinned behind his back. "Struggling will only bring you more pain."

The sprite chuckled low in her throat as she leaned down across him. "That's my line," she whispered, reaching for his PID. She paused, her hand hovering over the black and gold icon, as something on his skin caught her eye.

No, not on his skin. _Under_ his skin.

Bright green veins twisted down his neck and around his temples, pulsating with his breath. Her eyes widened, her mouth twisting in disgust. "You're infected!" she snarled as she jumped away from him, screaming for her guards.

"No!" Asterisk argued as he was dragged to his feet. "I have heard the Word. For the first time, I am clean!"

The sprite held up her hand, preventing the guards from removing him. "This Word… is an infection?"

"There will never be infection again," Asterisk clarified, his eyes taking on a dreamy quality. "Daemon will bring everyone to unity, and from there, peace." He focused again on her. "I must find Bob to help Daemon. He is the last, and he must hear the Word." Asterisk's eyes took on a look of desperation as the guards began pulling him away. "No, I must finish my quest!" His gaze fell to the floor, where he saw the cube. With a burst of strength, and the element of surprise, he tore away from the guards to grab the cube.

The sprite, thinking he was attacking her, reacted with a flick of her wrist, and a small knife appeared to slice at the Guardian. It caught him across his left side, surprising him and throwing off his footing. He crashed to the floor with a gasp of pain, and the cube was knocked a few feet away, where it activated.

A video file illuminated in the room, and the female sprite froze as the image of Guardian 452 appeared. Data scrolled across the file, providing statistics and physical characteristics of the Guardian. It ended with a location status of unknown.

The guards again secured the infected sprite, dragging him towards the door when the female stopped them with a wave of her hand. "Where is he from?" she asked quietly, her gaze never leaving the face of the missing Guardian.

"He was assigned to system Mainframe, before he was lost."

"Mainframe," she whispered.

"Help us find him," Asterisk pleaded with her, "and I promise you will be greatly rewarded."

She finally looked away from the file, and set her green gaze on the purple sprite. Her eyes were no longer teasing; now they were cold and hard as ice. "Oh, I will be rewarded," she agreed in a soft voice. "But not by your virus and not by you." Her eyes shifted to the guard on his right. "Erase him. I have no desire for infection to spread in my home."

She turned back to the file, her lips curling in a sneer as she ignored the protests of the soon to be deleted Guardian. Yes, she would be greatly rewarded.

And this time, he wasn't going to escape.

/

1 CYCLE LATER….

"It's bad, Dot. Very bad."

Everyone around the Principal Office War Room stared at Mouse as she began filling them in on her time out in the web. What had begun as a short web tour turned into a race back to Mainframe. After a malfunction with Mouse's armor, she and Ray had ported into a system for repairs. Within the second, a full blown attack occurred. Before the two realized what was occurring, a giant hole opened up in the sky, and a fleet of ships swarmed in and started rounding up the system's citizens.

"They didn't attack anyone; they just secured the net ports and headed for the control center. Ray and I managed to get past the guard ships and get away before they knew what we were doing."

"Did they try and follow you?" Bob asked.

Mouse shook her head. "Ray made a portal to the Web. Their ships couldn't handle that."

"Where is Ray now?" Dot questioned, looking around for the Surfer.

"He went back into the Web to get more information from fellow search engines about the spreading infection." She looked at AndrAIa. "I guess this isn't the first system he's seen attacked, and he's getting worried."

The game sprite nodded in recognition, recalling how she first met the adventurous sprite. "How did they manage to get into the system?" AndrAIa asked. "Didn't they have security protocols?"

"I have no idea, Sugar."

"Pull up the Net on screen," Dot ordered to the binomes at the VidWindow panels. All heads turned to look at the interconnection of blue dots, blue that was slowly turning green.

"No way!" Enzo cried out, putting his small hand on Frisket when the dog whined.

"The infection has spread another ten percent in the past second," Phong remarked, his voice filled with worry. "Daemon is slowly taking over the net."

"But how is that possible?" Dot demanded.

"That's what we need to find out," Bob answered.

"It has to be the Guardians," Matrix growled.

Everyone except AndrAIa turned to him in shock. "What are you talking about?" Bob asked, a cold knot forming in his stomach.

"Guardians can form portals," Matrix explained.

Mouse shook her head. "There wasn't a portal there, not that I saw."

"And Guardians wouldn't attack a system," Bob argued vehemently.

"They attacked us!" Matrix nearly shouted. "You weren't there, Bob, they were infected, and they were out for our heads. If it wasn't for Gavin, we may have been erased."

"He's right, Bob," AndrAIa spoke up from her lover's side. "The Guardians can't be trusted to be on our side."

Bob stared down at the table, unwilling to believe them. But the doubt only grew as he remembered what Blackadder had told him, about a sickness.

A sickness now called Daemon.

"How are we going to stop Guardians?" Mouse asked quietly.

No one spoke, and Bob lifted his head to see them staring at him. "Whoever it is we have to stop," Bob countered, "we have to figure out how they are getting into the systems. The best way to stop them is not letting them in at all."

Dot nodded. "Agreed." She turned back to the net screen. "The way the infection is spreading, we may be able to determine where they are going to attack next. We need to get those systems protected first." Dot pressed a button on the screen, and a list of systems flashed. "If we can get to the systems before the attack happens, we may be able to determine entry tactics, and may be able to get the system offline before it becomes occupied."

"Based on the systems that have been taken recently," Mouse added, pointing at the screen, "these three look like they would be next in line."

"AndrAIa and I will check them out," Matrix offered.

"No," Dot dismissed instantly. "Too dangerous. Bob can check them faster and be back here sooner."

"Too dangerous?" Matrix snapped in shock.

"Yes." Dot held her ground.

"You must have me confused with the other Enzo," Matrix hissed at her, staring down at his no longer bigger sister.

"Hey!" Enzo whined, but neither adult paid him any attention.

"You must be random if you think I'm going to let you go out there again," Dot fumed.

"Dot, it won't work."

Both Matrixes turned to the Guardian who had his hands up, ready to separate the two. "What do you mean?" both asked loudly.

"Daemon has control of the Supercomputer. They have ways of tracking sprites, especially Guardians, through PIDs and keytools. Right now, with all of the protection measures Mouse put around Mainframe, and with my time in the Web, I'm pretty sure Daemon hasn't found me yet, or else she would have been here. But if I go out there, I may as well paint a target on my back."

Bob looked at Matrix and nodded to his PID that was turned into game sprite mode. "Matrix has a chance to remain undetected with his PID, and because he no longer has Glitch, he has a better chance of slipping in and out of systems that may be invaded."

Dot glared at Bob.

"Besides," the Guardian remarked, staring calmly at the , "I need to stay here, to create the portals for them to come home. I won't be doing Mainframe any good if I get captured out in the Net."

The two sprites stared at each other for a moment before Dot's head dropped with a sigh. "You're right," she muttered. She looked up at Matrix in resignation. "He's right, it's best if you go."

Matrix reached out with both hands to grab his sister's shoulders in a gentle embrace. "I'll be all right, sis," he promised. "AndrAIa and I make a good team."

"I know." She smiled at him, trying to be strong, and the renegade smiled back before turning to look at Bob.

"When do we leave?"

"WARNING: INCOMING GAME. WARNING: INCOMING GAME."

"Not now," Mouse quipped as she looked up.

"First the game, then Daemon," Bob said to Matrix, and the two nodded in agreement.

"Let's do it." Matrix gave Dot one last smile before running out of the principal office with AndrAIa on his heels.

As Bob passed Dot, he grabbed her arm lightly. "It'll be ok," he whispered to her, his eyes compassionate.

Dot's hand slid into his and she squeezed. "I just worry about him. And you. Be careful."

"Always." He gave her a warm smile and followed the renegade and the game sprite.

"Let's go, Frisket!"

"Oh, no, you don't."

"Dot!" Enzo groaned as he struggled against the hand on his shoulder. "You let Matrix go!"

"Yes, and I'm not happy about that," Dot muttered. "But you are staying here. I need to figure out what system might be hit next, and I can't do it alone."

Enzo looked up at her. "You want me to help?"

She smiled at him. "You bet."

"Cool!"

Dot looked up to the hacker. "Mouse?"

"Pulling up the data now, Sugar."


	7. Falling Back

_Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Viceroy and Fiendfyres. Thanks for reading!_

_Second Note: So after multiple edit attempts, I've finally figured out that (/) is all I can use to show a break in scene, and that the title "command dot com" does not save when typed in properly. (I'd always wondered about that in other stories.) So, I've reduced it down to simply calling Dot the Commander of Mainframe. Same thing pretty much._

Chapter 7: Falling Back

"I think that's it." Dot lowered her glasses and nodded at Mouse. "When they finish the game, we'll run it by them… and I guess Matrix and AndrAIa will head out." Dot's face clouded over for a moment, but cleared when Mouse placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know. This will just take some getting used to."

Mouse smiled before turning her eyes down to Enzo. "Thanks for your help, Enzo. You're a handy man to have around."

Hiss eyes lit up, but he tried to act like it was nothing, and failed effectively.

Mouse gave Dot a sidelong glance before kneeling down in front of the smaller sprite. "You know, I need to run some tests for the upgrades I got at my last system port. I could use an extra pair of hands." She raised her eyes at them. "What do you say?"

"Help you out with _Ship_?"

"Yep."

"Can I sit in the pilot seat?" Enzo asked eagerly.

"I'll even let you press the buttons."

"Cool!" He turned to Dot, and she smiled encouragingly at him.

"Let's go, Sugar."

"Sir/ Ma'am!" All three sprites looked up at the urgent tone of Specky, the spectacled binome. "We have reports a portal just formed down by the dock." He turned to Dot, his eye wide. "It's from the Web!"

"What?" Dot ran over to the VidWindow. "Prepare all stations for defense! Scramble the units!"

"Something just came out of the portal!" Enzo yelled, pointing at the window.

Specky's voice overlapped Enzo's. "Sir/ Ma'am, the portal just closed!"

"What did you see come out of the portal, a creature?" Dot asked Enzo.

"No, it looked like a shuttle," Mouse clarified, her eyes narrowed as she typed at one of the consoles.

Dot locked eyes with Mouse. "Daemon?"

Mouse shook her head, "Not coming from the Web… I think."

"Ray?"

"He doesn't need a shut-"

"Hailing Commander of system Mainframe, come in." The room went silent at the announcement from the communication unit. One thing was for sure, the voice was not Ray's.

"Hailing Commander of system Mainframe," the female voice repeated, "this is Transport 317, requesting conference with the Commander."

"Transport 317, this is the Commander. Request you state your purpose and your intentions," Dot answered, signaling the patrol units to hold until further advisory.

"My name is Constantia Consolas, and I am here to speak with you regarding an urgent matter of your system's safety."

Dot raised an eyebrow at Mouse, who looked unconvinced. "What safety concern is that?"

There was a pause. "I have reason to believe you have a dangerous criminal in your midst. He escaped from my custody and I am here to reclaim him."

All eyes shot up in surprise, the only word breaking through the silence a whispered, "Dude!"

"How could that be, we haven't had anyone come in since before the war?" Dot asked Mouse. "No one could get through your security!"

"The _Saucy Mare_ came through," Mouse corrected her.

"Yes, but that was all Gavin's crew."

"A crew of pirates."

Dot scoffed. "You don't think…"

"I don't know. And neither does anyone else."

"But Gavin and his crew already left in search for a new vessel." Dot stared at the VidWindow, observing the shuttle as it hovered at the port entrance, waiting on permission to dock. "There is more than one way to get into a system," Dot surmised, briefly explaining the Code Master Lens who had entered by a portal into Mainframe. "And it could be someone working for Daemon." Dot looked back at Mouse. "We can't take the chance."

Mouse nodded. "We'll be ready for any defensive measures if our guest is anything but genuine."

"All right." Dot took a breath and pressed the Comm button. "Transport 317, you have authority to dock at pier 101. I'm sending a unit to escort you to the Principal Office."

"Understood, Transport 317 out."

Dot straightened. "Let's get some security standing by in here." She began working with Mouse on different scenarios of action, both so involved in their plans neither noticed Enzo slip out the door.

/

"That was the strangest thing I have ever seen," AndrAIa remarked as she linked her arm through Matrix's.

"Tell me about it!" Matrix exclaimed. "What kind of a User plays a game with unlimited enemies? And zombies of all things!"

"Maybe the User is getting tired of playing to win," Bob shrugged. "Now he plays to lose."

"And what in the Net is a nazi?" AndrAIa asked, but before anyone could answer, the three sprites turned at the sound of pounding feet.

"BOB!"

"Oof!"

"Enzo!"

"Ah, great, what does he want?"

"Bob, we've got a big problem, you have to come to the Principal Office, quick!" Enzo nearly shouted.

"Whoa, whoa, Enzo! Start over. What's wrong?" Bob asked as he sat up on his elbows.

"There's an escaped criminal in Mainframe!"

"What!"

"Yeah! There's someone going to talk to Dot right now-whoa!" Enzo had no time to finish as he was pulled behind Bob on their way to the Principal Office.

/

"Sir/ Ma'am, she's here."

Dot nodded. "Show her in."

The door to the control center opened, and Dot observed the guest as she strode into the room. Adorned in a black one piece jumpsuit similar to Dot's blue camouflage, the tanned sprite was only slightly taller than the , but her confidence made her appear so much larger. From her thick black boots to the small red cloak that covered her slender shoulders, the sprite was no nonsense and all woman. A large thick braid of dark red hair was pulled back save for a few shorts strands that framed her face. Her eyes were wide apart and gleamed like emeralds when they locked onto Dot's.

The suppressed a shudder under the coldness in that green gaze. From the instant she walked in the door, Dot sensed danger, though she couldn't place why. Her defenses were up, and after glancing at Mouse, she could see she wasn't the only one.

Constantia walked up to Dot with an air as if she herself was the , but nodded recognition to the green sprite. "You are the leader here?" she asked, her voice low but strong.

"Dot Matrix, Commander. You have some information for us?"

Constantia gazed around the room. "Would you prefer to discuss this in private?"

"No."

"Hmph. Very well." She placed a hand on her hip, shifting her weight to one side as she began. "A prisoner escaped from me about three minutes ago, and I've tracked him here. As soon as I take custody, I will leave you to… whatever," she drawled, waving to the various equipment around the room.

Mouse bristled at the dismissive tone of the sprite. She stepped forward, crossing her arms as she replied. "We haven't had any problems reported in the system, and Bob hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Are you sure he's here?"

The sprite's eyes narrowed. "Bob?"

"Our Guardian," Phong answered. "He knew the last time an unauthorized entry happened." He rolled closer to their guest. "Please do not be offended, we are not saying you are wrong, we simply have not had any strange occurrences… lately," Phong commented as he thought about the past few cycles.

"We've all been a little busy with Daemon," Mouse spoke up, her defensive posture never changing. "Haven't you?"

Constantia shifted her gaze from the small sprite at her side to the hacker. "Personally? No. I have more important problems to deal with."

"A supervirus is taking over the Net, what other problems could there possibly be?" Mouse snapped.

"Mouse!" Dot raised her hand to her friend. She turned back to Constantia. "I'm sorry, we're all on edge. We are trying to formulate a best way to protect the systems that are not infected. I take it," she said with a tilt of her head, "your system isn't?"

"We're getting off topic," the sprite replied flatly. "I want to speak with this Guardian of yours. Where is he?"

Dot, Mouse, and Phong looked at each other. A bad feeling began to develop in the pit of Dot's stomach. "He should be returning from the game now," she answered slowly. "Would you like to wait in my office?"

Constantia smiled coldly at Dot. "No."

Dot felt her chest tighten in anticipation of a confrontation. She was about to order a lockdown on the War Room when the door opened. Relief eased into her heart as she saw Matrix, AndrAIa, Enzo, and Bob enter the room.

"Dot, what's going on?" Matrix asked as he stopped to look at the red headed sprite.

Dot couldn't answer him. Her voice died as she stared at Bob. In the instant his eyes fell on the sprite, his face blanched, his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. Then, as quickly as the shock appeared, it was replaced by a look Dot had never seen on his face.

Unbriddled rage.

Constantia stared at him, her smile spreading like a virus' infection, full and poisonous. "Hello, Interface. Or should I say, _Guardian_. And I thought you were lying." Her eyes roamed up and down his form, not bothering to hide the look of satisfaction in her eyes. "I love the new look," she complimented in a sultry tone.

Enzo was the first to say anything, his face frozen in surprise. In disbelief, he asked, "You came looking for Bob? No way! Bob's not a criminal!"

All eyes turned to look between the two, locked in a battle of stares. "You know her?" Matrix asked.

"Know him?" Constantia answered with a laugh, the full bodied sound sending shivers up Dot's spine. "We certainly do, don't we, dear?" she suggested.

"Dot, get everyone out of here, now," Bob ordered, the softness of his voice unable to hide the edge in his tone.

The female sprite leaned against the railing, turning to look at Dot. "He never did like an audience." She gazed back at Bob then swiftly returned her eyes to Dot, one eyebrow elegantly raised over the smirk on her lips. "But you already know that, don't you?"

"Dot! Now!" Bob snapped, his eyes never leaving Constantia's.

"No! I'm not leaving," Matrix argued, throwing his hand out and calling to Gun to begin targeting.

"Me neither," Mouse growled. She unsheathed her sword and brandished it at the tanned sprite. "I believe you've worn out your welcome."

"My, what dedicated friends you have," Constantia complimented. "Bet they'd be willing to do anything for you, hmm? And you'd do anything for them, I'd guess. Much like you did anything for your little friends back in the Web?"

She turned her green eyes to Dot, a feral grin of the hunter targeting the prey donning her pretty face. Crossing her elbows, she leaned against the railing and drawled, "And he _did_ do anything." She licked her lips at Dot. "If you catch my drift," she laughed demurely.

Dot scoffed, disgusted by the obvious doubts she was feeding the group when she looked at Bob. His brown eyes locked on hers, and she wished they hadn't. In that nanosecond, Dot saw the one thing that completely broke her heart.

Guilt.

Dot almost doubled over as if she had been hit in the gut. She knew Constantia was taking pleasure in her reaction, and she tried to cover up her shock, but the raw emotion in Bob's face only served to drive her to the edge of composure. Her hand grasped the control panel in front of her, steadying her suddenly weak legs.

The silence was broken by the roar of Matrix. "I don't know what game you're playing at, but it ends now!" His mechanical eye went red with anger and a matching target appeared on Constantia's forehead.

"You won't delete me," she threatened quietly. "My guards are under strict orders to contact the Guardian Collective if I don't return."

Mouse glared at her while AndrAIa put a hand on Matrix's shoulder. "What do you mean?" the game sprite asked.

"Here's the deal." She locked eyes with Bob again. "You come with me, and your system is left alone. Resist and I will alert the Guardian Collective about your location," she swept her gaze across the room, her voice growing with strength, "and I will give them a portal to enter and infect you all." She smiled coldly, again settling her gaze on the Guardian. "The choice is yours. You have 1 millisecond before I go for the SuperComputer."

"You'd risk thousands of innocent lives," Bob growled, stepping forward menacingly.

"I'd hand over millions to get what I want," Constantia replied, unfazed by his anger. "And I always get my way," she hissed, her eyes flashing. She moved from the railing and walked towards the door, confident that no one would stop her. "I will return to my ship now. I shall leave my transport here when you are ready to join me." She looked back as the door opened. "1 millisecond," she reminded. Then, with a blown kiss from her fingertips, she strolled out.

No one moved. No one seemed to breathe. No one knew what to think. Finally, Dot snapped out of her trance.

Pressing on the panel, she pulled up several VidWindows. "Mouse and I narrowed down which system we think will be hit next. Matrix, AndrAIa, start making preparations for system Saugus. Mouse, get the latest defensive programs installed and applied, including firewalls.

"Phong, we need to start planning a Net wide defense, something we can use to help other systems that are next in line for Daemon's infection. We have to create a unified front if we want to put up our best fight. Enzo, I want you to go with him, help him like you did Mouse and myself earlier."

She finally looked up, her eyes falling on Phong. "And pick up several of the communicator wrist bands so we can coordinate timelines for the portals, and track AndrAIa and Matrix in the Net."

Shocked by Dot's abrupt shift back into business, no one moved, until Mouse inclined her head toward Dot. "What about her?"

Dot looked up at Bob before she realized what she was doing, and the female sprite's words slammed into her again. '_If you catch my drift...'_ The sudden pain that stabbed through her heart thickened her words with anger. "That's your problem," she directed to the Guardian harshly.

"Dot," Mouse whispered in surprise at the bitterness the displayed.

"I'll be in my office." Without another word, she spun on her heel and walked out of the room.

/

Dot practically ran down the hallway, her fists clenched and her breath caught around the lump in her throat. She was so angry she didn't know whether to break something or cry. '_Bob couldn't have… wouldn't have… could he?'_

Their conversation in her condo played through her mind again. He said he had done things… but she thought he had to delete sprites, not… _'Not what? She never said anything… it's your own imagination…'_

Then why did Bob look so guilty?

She pushed open the door of her office with all her anger, stormed in, and turned to slam the door shut when her efforts were blocked by the Guardian. Dot hadn't heard him follow her and hadn't expected him to. In that nanosecond of shock, she backed away. Then her eyes caught his, that look of guilt flashed through her mind, and she reacted before she knew what was happening.

Her hand slapped across his face hard enough to send pain through her arm. "Get out of here!"

She turned from him, afraid she would swing again. Instead she pushed her hands up through her hair, grasping at the soft strands, trying to block the horrible images her imagination conjured. It was no use, and only the sounds of the door shutting helped her to anchor onto the present; the soft click of the door… and the snap of the lock.

Her heart suddenly pounded in her ears, and her breathing went erratic. _'How dare you…'_ Her hands shook as they slammed down at her sides and she spun on him.

"I said GET OUT!" Her anger coursed through her, painfully ripping her heart into pieces, and she wanted nothing more than to do the same to him. The stoic look on his face only fueled her rage, and she advanced on him, her hands curling into claws that were tempted to strike at him.

"Liar! Fake! I wish you never came back!" Her hand rose again to strike, but Bob caught one wrist and then the other, struggling to calm her. She heard him saying her name, but she only wanted him gone. "_Go lose a game!_"

Over her broken cries, she heard Bob's soft gasp. She felt his hands leave her wrists and wrap tightly around her slender form, pulling her into him, clinging to her in a desperate act to forget her cutting words. Her chest tightened from the pain of Constantia's words spinning through her head, sowing doubt and anger, while the crushing weight of Bob's embrace tried fervently to uproot those dark weeds. She struggled against him, fighting to break away.

Hard as she tried, Dot couldn't hold onto her anger. Her composure slipping while her strength fled, she dropped her head to his chest. Oh, she hated what she had heard, but she loved him so much, and he loved her…

But he didn't deny the sprite's bold statements. Dot's heart went cold. "No," she cried into his chest. "No, those things she said…" She stumbled on her words, a sickness rising in her throat as she tried to speak. Dot lifted her eyes, forcing herself to look up at him. "Oh, User, Bob, they're true… aren't they?"

/

Bob wanted to delete. The pain in her eyes was something he never wanted to see, and knowing he was the cause of her pain… _'Learn to live with the consequences.' _

'_No, Patch',_ he thought bitterly, '_I could never learn to live with this. User, what have I done?'_

"Oh, User, Bob, they're true… aren't they?"

Bob was helpless as he watched her shoulders hitch, the sobs starting low in her throat, the tears slowly coursing down to her chin as his face told her everything.

"Dot, I'm so sorry…"

"Are you?"

Bob's body froze. "What?" He stared at her, his eyes trying to understand the deceived look on her face.

"You are a Guardian. You are the most resourceful sprite I have ever met. Do you really expect me to believe that you had no other choice but to… that there was no other way?" Her eyes fell. "I want you to tell me the truth… Did you care for her?"

"_No!_"

Dot recoiled in his arms. The anger in his voice caused her head to snap back up, her eyes widening at the pained expression on his face.

"By the Net, Dot, I love you!" He cupped her chin, pressing his face close and whispering urgently, "I love you! Everything I did, I did it to come back to you! I wish it didn't have to come out this way, and I curse the User that you have to be put through this, but you have to believe me when I tell you that I never once betrayed you!"

"Then why are you so upset? What are you guilty for?" Dot's voice trailed off. She moved back from him, her arms wrapping protectively around her waist. "I want to believe you, but I don't know if I can."

He was losing her. By the User, he couldn't handle that, not after that last hour of suffering. Not after he'd just gotten her back.

An idea came to mind, encouraged by the Glitch part of his brain, and his core sank as he realized it would be the only way to prove he was telling the truth. His head dropped, a heavy breath leaving him. She would know the truth… even if she couldn't forgive him, at least she would know the truth.

"Bob… what are we going to do?" she asked, the helplessness in her soft voice pushing him over the edge.

He raised his eyes to her. "I love you, Dot. I would accept deletion if it could take all of this away from you." A hand ran through the long strands of his blackened hair. "There is no way I can make you believe me… not through words. But I can show you… if you trust me."

Dot stared at him for a long moment, her eyes searching for understanding.

"Even if we had time for me to explain everything, you wouldn't completely know what happened. But this way…" he paused with a breath, "this way, there will be no secrets."

She swallowed hard after his words _'no secrets.'_ Was this really something she wanted? Was this really something he could live with? _'…learn to live with the consequences…'_

Her soft voice broke through his thoughts. "I trust you."

The breath he'd been holding suddenly left him. Nodding once, he stepped closer to her. "Close your eyes." The fingers of his left hand slipped through her hair and settled against her temple. "Ready?" At her nod, he pressed his fingers firmly to her temple while a soft glow emanated from his hand. He took a breath and focused on his memories.

'_Upload.'_

Dot cried out as the energy burst from him into her. Nanoseconds later, the energy dissipated and Dot collapsed against him. Bob lifted her into his arms and placed her on the small couch in the room. He sat next to her, gazing down at her face.

"Forgive me," he whispered, placing his forehead against hers while battling the sudden dread at the pain he knew this would cause her. Had he a choice, he never would have spoken a word of what happened. Now, he had no choice but to bear his soul to make her understand.

He prayed to the User that it wouldn't destroy them.

Allowing himself one more nano to take comfort in the quiet of the room and the sound of her even breathing as she slumbered, Bob stood and moved to the door. While Dot faced the dark path of his memories, he had to face the disappointment of his friends. Bob hoped for the courage to survive the fallout of both.


	8. The Price of Pride

_Author's Note: Hello everyone! I just wanted to let you all know that for the rest of March I will be busy with finals for college, so you probably won't see another update until April. My goal is to post Chapter 9 on April 1. _

_This chapter is dedicated to Glitter, Viceroy, and to everyone who continues to stay the course with me on this journey! Thank you for the encouragement!_

Chapter 8: The Price of Pride

At first, there was only darkness. A warm glow pulsated within her, the soft heat spreading through her whole body, wrapping her in a familiar embrace that was completely Bob. It was unlike anything she had every experienced.

The world exploded in light.

Images flashed before her, so real in their intensity she could feel everything as if she was right there. For the briefest moment, she thought she had gone through a portal to another system. The places were unknown, the faces unfamiliar, but she experienced the strangest sensations that alerted her to the lack of reality; the emotions rolling forth were not her own. Companionship, fear, panic, despair, hope, guilt, and everything else Bob experienced during his time in the prison.

She was living Bob's memories.

Unable to stop the steady stream, Dot quickly became familiar with the crew who had gone from enslavers to companions. She suffered with him in that User-forsaken place, unable to do anything but watch the events unfold before her as she witnessed first hand the dark secrets Bob had tried to keep…

/

It had been two minutes since they had been taken prisoner from _The Escape_. Of the 21 crew members arrested, nine remained alive: Blackadder, Bob, Cooky, Clunk, Dolby, Numbloc, Scrolloc, Patch, and Tower. Now they were a part of thousands of lost sprites, many of whom had been innocent… until the horrors of the jail hardened their hearts and their hides. The screams of the tortured and insane alone were enough to drive sprites mad.

Here there were no prisoners, only slaves, tasked with expanding the jail and mining the rare jewels that were hidden deep within the rock upon which Villanova was built. Most of the milliseconds were spent in the yards, or the designated work fields for each prisoner. Finding large quantities of the precious stones meant better rations or time off, and sprites willingly killed each other if the opportunity presented itself for such rewards.

Trinkets weren't the only thing fought over. Little food was provided, enough to survive, but many inmates fought and deleted for the chance at more energy. Scrolloc was among those killed for a piece of donut bread, his body fading before his crew mates even knew what was happening. The guards observed the whole incident from the walkways above, doing nothing.

Dressed from head to toe in dark green leather garb, a utility belt on the waist and their faces hidden by black face plates on their dark green helmets, the guards were a silent brute force of authority. Their duties bordered on boring, and to entertain themselves they instigated fights among the prisoners to see who would win. Some inmates mistook their lackluster enthusiasm for a weakness to exploit, and rushed them for the opportunity to escape. Such challenges ended in slow deletion. Upon their belts the guards kept magnetic batons. A quick tap was enough to stun an inmate into second thoughts.

Prolonged contact resulted in complete defragmentation.

Clunk had attempted to relieve one of the guards of his baton. After rendering the guard unconscious with a shove through a wall, the large sprite reached for the fallen baton as more guards arrived to quell the brawl. As soon as he touched the baton, the magnet sent a surge through him, causing his arm to spasm and preventing him from dropping the deadly weapon. He quickly began fading as his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the floor.

The guards stood around and laughed. Only when other inmates tried to help him did they intervene, ensuring Clunk would delete from his own foolish actions. Once his body erased, the closest guard reached down to the ground with a gloved hand to retrieve the fallen baton, laughing as he and the others walked away.

It had taken all of Patch's strength to hold back Bob. His Guardian protocol having kicked into overdrive, he was ready to take on all of the guards himself to help the suffering sprite. Too many of the crew had died, and Bob had had enough.

Locked in their cell for the night, Bob paced restlessly. "We can't wait any longer. We have to do something now or there's going to be no one left!"

Patch watched the undercover Guardian move back and forth across the small cell from the bottom bunk bed while Backup snored loudly from the top. "Acting rashly will only get more sprites killed."

"Hanging around isn't doing us any better, is it?" Bob snapped.

"Protecting others isn't your format anymore, _Interface_," Patch drawled.

Bob winced. To hide his Guardian protocol, the crew had agreed upon the lie that Bob was a Net linguist named Interface who served as the primary communicator with the systems they ported. None of the other inmates took interest in Bob's make believe background, and the guards couldn't care less what the prisoners called each other, but the crew had taken the lie seriously to protect one they considered their own.

And Bob was going out of his mind being unable to protect them.

"What in the Net is Blackadder waiting for?" Bob fumed. "He said he knew someone who broke out of here. Why isn't he trying to do the same?"

"Because it's not as simple as walking out the door. You have to get through to the Warden."

Bob stopped mid stride, turning around to look at the medic. "Who?"

"The head sprite who runs this place, a woman as beautiful as she is crazy. Most sprites here die without ever knowing she exists. The captain has been trying for the past minute to get to her."

Bob shook his head. "He hasn't been successful yet, what makes you think anything will be different any other second?" Bob started pacing again. "No, there has to be another way."

_"And there is."_ Bob turned his head towards the bars. From down the hallway, Blackadder's distinct tone cut into the conversation in the fluctuating pitches of the strange dialect Bob had recently discovered: WebSpeak. Created by sprites too degraded by the Web's atmosphere to speak through normal means, the language symbolized deformity and low status, and therefore was not spoken by the guards.

Mercenaries were another story. Blackadder and Patch began conversing as often as possible in the language of the Web to avoid being overheard by the guards. With Patch's help, Bob was quickly becoming fluent.

_"You have a plan?"_ Patch asked.

_"Yes." _

The medic and Guardian looked outside the cell door as something landed nearby. Bob reached through the woven metal and retrieved a small black leather ball with a hefty center. Bob unwrapped the bundle to reveal a large unrefined ruby surrounded by a thick strip of leather.

_"By the User!"_ Bob muttered.

Patch whistled. _"Wow, that's a beauty. How did you get that?"_

_"Kindred folk in high places," _Blackadder's voice drifted back. _"That should be enough to bribe my way into an audience with her."_

Bob frowned. _"Bribe a guard? Yeah, right. You've seen how these sprites operate, if they want something, they'll just take it. There're not going to bargain with you."_

"_Trust me on this one, Interface," _Blackadder replied._ "I know what I'm doing."_

Bob looked at Patch, who nodded in reply. _"And what happens if you do make it to her?"_

"_All I need is a nano in her quarters. If everything goes as planned, come tomorrow night, my contact will be able to get the doors unlocked and get access to the guard's private quarters. Get everyone outfitted and we'll go from there."_

"_That seems pretty sketchy."_

"_Well, if you want something more concrete, why don't you start digging a hole in the floor and we'll escape sometime in the next 10 hours?" _the red sprite responded sarcastically.

"Yeah, right."

/

The plan had worked, so far. Blackadder had approached a lone guard while in the yards, exchanged the jewel, and was escorted away from the mining zone beyond the eyes of his watchful crew. Now, back in their cells for the night, the moments were tense for the crew as they relied on Blackadder's unknown contact to hold up his end of the plan. As the silence dragged on, Bob became uneasy. The lack of control was unnerving him, and his mind clicked through all of the variables that could go wrong.

"For a Guardian, you get pretty nervous."

Bob glared at Patch from his spot on the cell floor. "Anxious. I'm _anxious_," he whispered back. He looked back at the door. "I hate waiting."

"Then wrestle Backup or something. Your fidgeting is making _me_ nervous."

"Wrestle Patch, Backup is sleeping," the white sprite mumbled from the top bunk.

Bob rolled his eyes and stood. He walked over to the door, looking through the bars for something, anything. All he got was a dark quiet hallway. Sighing, he crossed his arms and leaned against the cold metal. "There's something I don't get."

"What's that?"

"Why are we being so stealthy about this? The number of inmates to guards is 100 to 1, at least. If Blackadder's contact can break us out, why not the whole prison? The guards wouldn't be able to handle all of them. We could slip out in the confusion." He turned to look at Patch as he sat up on his bunk. "This whole plan of sneaking the few of us out in guard uniforms is complicated, and the more complex the plan, the more things can go wrong."

"We can rush the guards all day long, but we'd never get back out into the Web."

"Why?"

"The Warden keeps possession of a set of keys with embedded codes that release the transports from the docking bays. Trying to tamper with the locks can set off internal self destruct mechanisms that will blow the transports, destroying any chance of making it to the Web." Patch brought his legs up on the edge of the bed, leaning back into the wall. "That is why there are so few guards. Even if a wide scale break happens, without those keys, no one's going anywhere, and they know that. We have the advantage that _we_ know that, too."

"Great," Bob muttered. "So, Blackadder thinks he can get one of these keys?"

"Yes. Then his contact gets us out of the cells, and we make our way to the transport as quickly as possible. Without any unwanted attention."

"And if this mystery sprite doesn't come through?"

_Beep._

The door swung open silently on its hinges.

Bob glanced at Patch, who returned his stare with a shrug. "Guess that answers that question." Reaching up, Patch tapped Backup who quickly climbed down.

Quietly, the three headed out into the dim hallway. Patch rounded up the others, and Bob stood ahead of the group, ready to strike. Patch snuck up on his right.

"At the end of the hall, we take the stairs up to the right. That leads us to the guard quarters," Patch whispered. "We take out who's there, switch suits, get Blackadder, and head for the docking area."

"Let's do it," The Guardian grinned. "Stay frosty."

_/_

_Present Second…_

The normal activity of the War Room had finally returned, but it was a strained atmosphere. After the departure of not only the mysterious sprite from the Web, but of the Commander and Guardian as well, no one knew what to do. Mouse had looked around at the shocked faces of the sprites and binomes, knowing her expression closely mirrored the rest.

Then, as if the User had pressed the 'play' button, everyone became reanimated again, quickly jumping to the tasks Dot assigned. Phong took Enzo to find the communicators, AndrAIa began scanning the system Saugus for information on their energy readings and population, and Mouse paired up with Specky to review holes in their current security measures.

Only Matrix seemed stuck in pause. Massive arms crossed over his chest, the young renegade stared straight ahead at nothing, a scowl deepening on his face with each passing nano. AndrAIa called his name several times before he seemed to come back to himself. Giving one glance towards Dot's office, he turned to his companion and set to work with her.

With Specky's aid, Mouse was quickly able to download multiple defense applications from parts of the Net that were still Daemon free, and adding her own personal touch, Mainframe's security was beefing up nicely. She was about to begin programming some extra firewalls to launch in the event of a total system breech when she heard footsteps from behind. Turning, the hacker observed Mainframe's Guardian walking through the War Room towards the doors leading out of the Principal Office.

Her mouth opened to call him when she noticed Matrix walking after him. She paused, glancing over to AndrAIa who also stopped in her preparations for the launch to system Saugus. The two female sprites came to a silent agreement to let the boys have a moment alone.

"Continue loading those firewall measures as backups in the system," Mouse ordered the spectacled binome while walking over to the game sprite. Looking over her shoulder, Mouse observed AndrAIa's plan of attack. "What have you got so far?" she asked.

"We need to move quickly into the system but we don't want to draw attention," AndrAIa began. "With our Net port operational, it would be best for us to use that to port into system Saugus. We'll figure out where the system stands on defenses, see if we can set up some kind of allegiance with them, and try to build up a network with the other infection free systems."

"If you take the Net port, we'll need to keep it open for your return," Mouse pointed out. "If you can get in, so can others."

"We should close the Net port, instead having Bob make a portal for us to come back through."

"With his new "powers," is that something he'll be able to…" Mouse trailed off as her ears picked up on a loud noise coming from the hallway.

"…made a mistake…"

"…rest of us paid for it!"

Mouse looked back at AndrAIa. The game sprite had her attention locked on the double doors leading out of the War Room through the Principal Office. Like her aquatic friend, Mouse could faintly hear the argument taking place in the hall. As if of one mind, both sprites moved quickly for the doors, walking through to witness Bob reprimanding Matrix while the renegade looked ready to deck the shorter Guardian.

"…little sprite anymore, Bob!"

"Then act like it, Matrix! Your sister gave you an order to help another system, so obey your code and do it!"

"Everything all right, Sugars?" Mouse asked lightly, even though her heart felt like it was at the bottom of her feet. They already had enough problems to face, fighting amongst each other was the last thing Mainframe needed.

"Yes, Mouse, we're fine." Bob's even tone did little to hide the tightness in his throat.

AndrAIa shifted next to her. "Matrix? I need help with securing transportation in system Saugus."

A tense moment passed between the two men, and with a final soft remark from Matrix, the renegade followed AndrAIa back into the War Room. Mouse stepped further into the hall. "Are you sure you're ok, Sugar?"

Bob sighed. "For now." His brown eyes locked on hers. "I'm going up to the ship. Can you run things until Dot wakes up?"

Mouse frowned. "Is she all right?"

"Yes, she's just resting," Bob reassured her, though something in his tone sounded off. "Just… keep an eye on things for now… and make sure he's okay."

Mouse nodded. She understood perfectly. "You take care of yourself up there."

As he disappeared around the corner, Mouse shook her head. As much as she wanted to help him, she knew this was a battle he had to fight alone. She prayed to any User who would listen for these constant struggles to come to an end, the sooner the better.

_/_

_Past-Villanova…_

"This is bad. This is very bad."

Bob watched Patch and Tower at the control consoles, now dressed as Villanova guards, frantically attempting to regain control of the stolen vessel.

After having freed Blackadder from his cell and confirming he obtained the transport key, through means he refused to indulge, the crew began slipping down in pairs to transport 4-9B. While Tower and Patch began powering up the shuttle for departure to the Web, Blackadder retreated back into the prison to retrieve his contact.

Ten nanos later, Bob was amazed and horrified to meet Commodore, Blackadder's contact… and a Web degraded sprite. Though they had told Bob about the damages of the Web, had explained how the degradation brought about the language of WebSpeak, he hadn't expected the terrible disfigurement. Commodore proved it was possible to survive exposure in the Web… if you could afford the price.

Degraded sprites were considered to be less than intelligent and were put in positions of servitude that usually required brute work outside of the yards. The ingrained belief of stupidity allowed the Web sprites to observe and learn many things about the guards without being detected. However, the guards didn't underestimate the power of "stupidity" in large numbers, so strictly kept the degraded sprites away from each other. This ultimately proved smart as the degraded sprites had a knack for being un-Userly strong. Commodore used this strength to break into one of the prison's power grids to manipulate the locks.

The crew accepted the damaged sprite like he was one of their own. Bob watched carefully from a distance. After hearing Blackadder's brief explanation, Bob felt a knot form in his stomach. Something didn't jive for him, and he realized Blackadder never explained how they managed to meet in the first place. But the red sprite had kept a lot of secrets, so maybe it was nothing.

All in all, everything had gone as smooth as a Dot's Diner energy shake. While inside the prison, not a single guard questioned the disguised sprites as the seven prisoners walked freely among them. When departing the pier, no alarms sounded as the transport key released the vessel from the dock, and no explosives were launched at them as they made their way toward the Level 9 tear that would provide them access to the Web.

Utilizing the ship's Web portal tool, they simply needed to fire the energy beam onto the tear, form the portal, fly through and never look back.

The beam fired. Nothing happened.

Then they got caught in a retrieval tractor beam, the engines now straining against its pull.

Things were quickly going downhill.

"Patch?" Blackadder questioned.

"I don't know!" The medic's fingers flew over the console, reading various streams of binary data, attempting the portal again while Tower used the thrusters to break free of the beam. Patch pressed the button again, and a second shot fired, but the yellow beam appeared to simply dissolve around the tear.

"Something's blocking it," Bob mused as he stared at the tear. Patch's fingers hesitated for a moment while examining the bright blue energy. He scanned the data again, the room becoming silent as Patch and Tower tried to fix the problem.

Tower turned to Blackadder. "I'm giving her as much juice as I can, but it's not enough to get us loos-"

"That… _bitch_!" All hands turned to stare at the normally docile medic as he slammed his fist against the console. He spun around to Blackadder and Bob, his eyes ablaze. "She set up a security shield around the tear! Without the codes, we're stuck!"

Before anyone could comment, the vessel shuddered as it came to a sudden halt. Nearly everyone was yanked off their feet as the transport began to move backwards, returning to the prison.

"Cursors!" Blackadder spat.

"I take it this didn't happen before?" Bob remarked.

Blackadder simply stared at him for a moment before shouting at Tower. "Weapons report!" The red sprite glared out the window as the tear drifted from sight. "I'm not going back without a fight."

"We have three battery cannons, but they are not fully charged. We'll have enough energy for about two bursts per gun," Tower replied.

"Dolby, Cooky, Numbloc, you three take the guns. Try and take out the power grids." He turned to the remaining sprites, standing by with grim faces as they pulled their side arms to the ready. "The rest of you, we need to keep them as far from us as possible. Take out as many as you can before they enter the transport. Go for the clean kill."

"We're gonna need other ammunition, boss," Clunk spoke up. "We've only got stun rounds."

"What?" Blackadder seethed. "Who in the Dell came up with that bright idea?"

"I did."

Blackadder turned his gold eyes on the Guardian, glaring daggers. "You did? I would expect such a _distinguished_ member of the SuperComputer to have better sense than that!" he spat.

"There is never any sense in killing," Bob countered hotly. "We can get out of here without useless deletion. Trust me; I've been in much worse spots than this."

"We're now going to have every guard in the prison coming down on us! We have only 6 energy bursts and a handful of stun rounds to avoid recapture, and all you can say is _'trust me'_?" he snarled.

Bob squared his shoulders, refusing to back down. "Yes."

Any further words were cut off by a loud voice that echoed through the transport. "Cease and desist all further activities. Your vessel has been reprogrammed to auto function."

Bob and Blackadder looked over as Patch and Tower cried out when a surge of electricity arced from the consoles onto their hands.

"Damn! Self protection software!" Patch hissed, holding his burnt hand. He looked to the red sprite, uncertainty in his eyes.

"They don't know how many we have or how well we're armed," Blackadder pressed. "We can rush them and take control of their weapons, get another ship, and get one of the guards to give us the access codes for the tear."

"That's crazy!" Bob exclaimed. "You do that, and you're sending your men to deletion! We're outnumbered; we won't survive more than a few nanos!"

"We won't live much longer if we surrender. They'll erase us as soon as the transport is clear!"

"Are you sure?" Bob challenged. The flicker of hesitation in the captain's eyes was all he needed. "Exactly. I'm going to talk with them. You all wait here."

"You?" Patch asked sharply. "What do you think you can do?"

"I'm going to make the Warden a deal."

"With what? You have nothing to offer!"

"Backdoor access to the SuperComputer."

"Are you insane?" Patch grabbed Bob by his collar and pulled his face close. "You're going to give a slave driver access to the largest interconnection of systems known to sprites? She'll go on a damn shopping spree!"

"Not if what you said is true," Bob nodded at Blackadder. "If there's some kind of sickness spreading there, I doubt she's going to get very far. Plus," Bob added with one finger raised, "I have my own means of alerting the Guardian Collective to an unauthorized entry."

"And what about the rest of us?" Tower asked.

Bob looked around at the others as they stared at him. "If everything goes right, you'll be heading home."

"Not without you!" Patch denied.

"Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself," Bob dismissed with a shrug. He looked back at the red sprite. "But you need to take your crew and get as far away from here as you can. This won't work if you get caught again."

Blackadder stared at him for a long moment. "You really expect me to trust you?"

Bob frowned at him. "You still don't believe me?"

"Give me your word you'll do everything you can to save my crew."

Bob nodded slowly. "I swear."

The transport jolted to a stop. Again, the voice echoed through the ship's communication system. "You are surrounded and will be erased if you resist. Remove all weaponry and exit the transport with your hands up."

Everyone looked over at the door as it opened. Huddled on the control deck, none of the crew members could see the guards, and no one appeared to be approaching.

"Bob." The blue sprite turned back to Patch as the medic spoke his name softly. "If you tell them you're a Guardian, and the Warden refuses your offer… you're going to live to regret it."

Bob smiled, placing a reassuring hand on the older sprite's shoulder. "Relax. This will be as easy as Pi squared." Standing, he handed over his stun gun and the magnetic baton from his belt. With a sure smile and no shortness of confidence in his voice, he said, "Hang tight, this'll just take a nano." Raising his hands in the air, he poked his head around the corner of the door.

"All right!" he shouted. "I'm coming out! I'm unarmed!" He scanned the three rows of guards at the end of the docking bay, all aiming various types of firing weapons at the door. Glancing up around the roof of the prison, he spotted several more snipers.

A firefight definitely would not end well.

Slowly stepping through the open door way, Bob walked onto the concrete pier and moved about a meter from the transport.

From the rows ahead of him, a guard shouted, "Get down on your knees!"

"All right," Bob soothed as he did so, "Look, I'm complying! No arguments from me!"

"Silence! Where are the rest? I want everyone out of the transport, now!"

"They'll come out when I tell them," Bob replied quickly, "But I want to speak with the Warden first!"

A small burst of concrete exploded in front of him, Bob flinching away as some dust flew up in his face from the blast.

"I said silence! You are in no position to make demands!"

"We are in position to blow this entire docking bay if I can't speak with the Warden," Bob lied. "We are willing to do anything to avoid recapture, and we'll take all of you with us!" Some of the guards seemed to fidget at this and Bob pressed. "Come on now, you're housing numerous ruthless criminals, you don't think we'd have a little insurance?"

The silence stretched on for an eternity if for a moment, and Bob began to fear his bluff wasn't going to work. _'Uh oh.'_ "We are willing to delete for freedom," Bob shouted forcefully. "Are you?"

"That won't be necessary," a soft voice said from beside him. Bob turned his head to see pair of black boots standing on two black metal plates connected by a silver rod, the Villanova version of a zipboard. Above the boots, a long black cloak swished around a small figure whose face remained hidden in the folds of the hood. The figure moved closer, gliding quietly down to the dock and hovering to the right of the kneeling Guardian.

The low voice continued, distinctly feminine and full of quiet power. "You wanted to speak with me?"

Bob cleared his throat, his eyes shifting carefully between the masked guest and the armed guards. "I want to make a deal."

A melodious laugh was her response, her cloak rippling with the quakes of her body. "A deal? Prisoners don't make good deals."

"Guardians don't make good prisoners."

The laugh died away. "Guardians?" She glided around behind him. "You are a Guardian?"

"Yes." Bob waited, watching her from the corner of his eye.

She hovered for a moment in silence. "Interesting. And tell me, Guardian, what exactly are you trying to bargain?"

"Release the sprites in the transport, and I'll give you a way into the SuperComputer."

"I am not a virus, Hero," the soft voice sharpened. "I have no desire for such power." She moved closer, her voice dropping. "All those saviors could be bad business for me."

"You need systems for workers," Bob argued. "The SuperComputer has access to all systems. You could have your pick, and no security measure would be able to stop you."

Slowly, she drifted back around to the right of him, always from behind, never blocking the prisoner from the line of fire. "You would risk the enslavement of countless other sprites… to save a few you know here? Doesn't sound very Guardian-like."

Bob winced. She was good. "I gave my word," he answered simply, unable to think of anything else that would sound as honest.

"And what is in it for you?" she asked after a pause.

"For me?"

"If I spare your sprites, and you give me access to unlimited systems… what happens to you? Do I get to keep you for my own amusement?"

Despite the warm tones of her voice, Bob felt a chill run through him. "I want the chance to return home," Bob answered quietly.

"Ah." The cloaked sprite moved away, turning her back on him. "So, I suppose you expect me to just let you go after I get what I want."

"I expect you to keep your end of the deal… as you expect me to keep mine."

"Hmmm. Trust a Guardian lost in the Web… how did you happen to come here, anyway?" She gestured out towards the Web beyond the atmospheric barrier protecting the prison. "Not many systems to protect out here are there?" she asked in a mocking tone.

"Take the offer, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Again, laughter filled the air. "Of course," she snickered. "Everything for a price." She suddenly sped around to his front, crouching down low before him. "And what is the price for lying?"

Bob tilted his head, his eyes furrowing in mild confusion.

"Turn around."

He looked back at the transporter. His heart dropped to his feet. Surrounded by guards on zipboards, arms up in the air, each member of the crew was being escorted down the pier. One by one, they were dropped to their knees, Backup landing next to him.

"You didn't really think it would work, did you?"

Bob looked back at the sprite, still crouched near him, her hood pulled back. She was a breath taking beauty. He stared at her green eyes, as bright with intelligence as beauty. The smile on her face spread slowly, a strand of red hair falling with the tilt of her head.

"No standard uniform, no PID, no keytool. What kind of a fool do you take me for?"

_'Dipswitch!'_ Bob chastised himself. He'd been so sure this would work that he never considered she wouldn't believe him to be a Guardian.

"But," she whispered as she leaned in close, "I was most impressed with your effort." Her eyes roamed his face. "And you are fun to look at."

Bob recoiled inwardly, her affections mirroring those of Hexadecimal. Right now, he would have rather taken his chances with the random virus.

"So I'm going to be generous. You all will be escorted back to your cells and its back to business as usual."

"You won't harm them?" Bob asked, tampering down on the disbelief in his voice.

"I give you my word," she answered over her shoulder, gliding away from him.

Bob glanced at Blackadder and Patch, a shallow grin on his face at the small, if not complete, victory. The set lines of their mouths revealed they did not share his sentiments. His eyes focused back on the Warden when she spoke again.

"Oh, and Hero," she mocked lightly as she turned back to him. "The price for lying?" She raised her arm, a large firearm in her hand, and pointed it as his chest. "Costly."

The weapon cracked in the silence of the second's early hours. The sound reverberated off the walls, echoing out into the atmosphere, closely followed by a low, guttural cry. Soon the air was filled with shouts of anger and despair.

Bob barely noticed. Everything slowed down to a near stop, all sounds drowned out by the echo of the fired weapon. The members of the crew were climbing to their feet, so slowly, too slowly, but they became blurs in the background. Bob's vision was filled with only the wound, bright blue blood seeping through the torn clothes at each struggling breath. His hands shivered as they became slick with blood. His throat burned when the last strains of his cry died on his lips.

Distantly, Bob heard the deadly sprite's parting word. "Pity."

His voice carried over the din. _"You promised not to hurt them!" _

The Warden's calm eyes locked onto his, drinking in his pain. "I didn't hurt him. I killed him." She left without another word.

Bob stared after her, his hands still pressing into the wound even as Backup's body began fading into deletion. Too soon, he was left kneeling alone, the drying blood the only evidence left of the tall, white sprite…

…and of Bob's failure to keep his word.


	9. History Lesson

Chapter 9: History Lesson

_The ReBoot Timeline used in this series is as follows: Day = decade/ Hour= year/ Minute=month/ Cycle=week/ Second=day/ Microsecond=hour/ Nano=minute/ Nanosecond=second_

/

"Radical. He used the word radical and you think-"

A ping cut her off. Metal ruptured. The room echoed with a roar.

The virus was free. Bob ran at him, his mind screaming to stop, but he didn't. Kilobyte raised his arm to swing, instead catching Bob's throat in his large cold hand. The cadet's feet swung wildly as he struggled to get free, to no avail.

"Look what you did, Bob," Kilobyte growled at him through a fanged smiled. He stomped across the room, his golden claws extending as he advanced on the pink haired sprite.

"Dixon, run!" Bob choked out.

She stared at him, her blue eyes wide and afraid, her body frozen.

Kilobyte raised his arm, the claws glinted in the reflection of the deletion chamber's tear then they thrust down into the soft tissue of the young Guardian.

"Dixon! NO!"

Her body was thrown against the wall, broken and bleeding from the deep gouges in her chest. She continued to stare at Bob while she flickered.

"Who's to blame, Bob?" Kilobyte laughed before he threw the silver haired cadet down next to her.

Ignoring the cackling virus, Bob crawled over to Dixon, cradling her head while pressing his hand against her wounds. "Hang on, Dixon," he begged.

Kilobyte's mocking voice reached Bob's ears. "Too late, Bob. You failed."

"No!" Bob shouted, glaring up at the virus. "I can still save her!"

"Then why didn't you?" a harsh voice demanded.

Bob turned his head back down, and stared at the accusing eyes of Backup, the blood pumping through the gunshot wound in his chest with each dying beat of his heart. The white sprite was coughing, blood splattering across his face as his lungs filled with the blue fluid.

"I tried," Bob whispered. "I tried!"

"And failed," the baritone voice mocked in glee from behind him. "Over and over…"

Bob raised his eyes above him, staring up into the grinning face of Megabyte, one arm possessively around Dot's waist, his other hand clamped over her mouth. He stared into her terror filled eyes, tears streaming down her face as she struggled against the virus.

"And over." In one swift movement, Megabyte snapped Dot's neck. He let go, and she collapsed lifeless before Bob.

"DOT! _NO!_"

Bob shot up from the sweat covered sheets, his eyes wildly searching the darkness before him for Megabyte and the body of his love. As his surroundings became familiar, Bob's head fell forward into his hands, the racing of his heart pounding the blood past his ears while his throat burned from the strains of his cry.

"Dot," he whispered hoarsely. He pulled the sheet from his body, turning on the bed to sit on the edge. He leaned forward, one arm across his leg and the other running the long silver strands back behind his head. It had only been a dream but the reality that Megabyte could be so ruthless if he chose….

Bob's hand clenched in his hair. _Megabyte_, his mind hissed. Deep in his chest, the anger simmered, lit by Backup's senseless death and fueled by Megabyte's betrayal. And the Warden's.

His heart constricted. He trusted her… why? Why was he always so trusting, risking the lives of those he was supposed to protect? His shoulders slumped in defeat when he could not find the answer. "Some Guardian," he berated himself.

"I've always thought so."

Bob's eyes lifted and met the even gaze of his cellmate, Patch. He was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall, smiling gently. "You've got the heart for it, my friend, and that's more than can be said for many."

"And how would you know?" Bob snapped, in no mood for encouragement from the medic.

"How do you think?" he answered lightly.

For a moment, Bob said nothing. He stared at the aged sprite, his mind so engulfed in his own morbid thoughts that he couldn't piece the puzzle together. Then it slapped him in the face, and his expression showed it. "You?"

"Guardian 87, at your service," Patch bowed his head, his arm sweeping out beside him in mock regality. "I'm surprised you didn't figure it out sooner."

"But… but you aren't guarding a system or teaching at the academy… you don't have the icon… where's your keytool?" Bob sat up straighter. "Wait, your keytool! Is it here? We can break out…" his voice trailed off at the medic's head shake.

"I gave up my code a long time ago."

"Gave it up?" Bob asked, incredulous. "What does that mean? I know Guardians retire or delete, but I've never heard of anyone giving up their code."

Patch sighed and pulled both knees up to rest his arms upon, his head leaning back against the wall. "I was the Guardian of a system called Ianal. We were a small, closed system, with few problems besides tears and the occasional binome infraction. We didn't see many games, either. Things were running so smooth that for hours nothing major happened."

"Not even a virus?"

Patch looked at Bob for a moment. "There was a woman," he continued, looking down at the floor. "Her name was Pixel." He smiled gently. "She was the most beautiful sprite I had ever seen. Smart, ambitious, and stubborn to a fault. Her format was an analyzer, focusing primarily on the digital make up of nulls to find a cure.

"We were engaged when she found an archive on previous studies conducted days before. She was so excited… but some of the files showed signs of corruption." Patch took a breath. "She brought them to me to run a file patch, to see if we could realign the data to access the studies. I... I refused to help her with them.

"We had been engaged for over an hour, but she was so caught up in her work. 'I'm almost there,' she told me, 'I can bring our loved ones back, I can do it!' She was so driven to find the cure, it became her whole life. It was a life that had no room for me in it."

"What happened?" Bob asked after a pause.

"She hounded me about those files constantly, getting angrier ever time we talked. She threw a dish at me once." Patch chuckled. "I actually thought it funny at the time." He became serious. "Then she threatened to call of the wedding. So I caved… but not completely. I gave her access to the archive recovery center in the Principal Office… and then left her to figure out the program."

Bob's eyes widened. "You left her?" He shook his head in disbelief. Recovering corrupt programs was a delicate process, not only because of the sensitivity of the software… but because many times corrupt files housed hidden entryways for viral infections. While the recovery center was not off limits to sprites in a system, all Guardians understood the high level of risk in allowing a corrupt file to be corrected unsupervised.

Patch winced. "I know," he replied softly. "I was wrong… but I was angry at her, too, and I was being spiteful." He sighed. "I can still see the hurt in her eyes when I walked out. She knew the risks of working with a corrupt file; that was why she came to me in the first place. But she refused to give up. She started the software."

"What happened?"

Patch was silent for a moment. "Michelangelo."

Bob rocked back on the bed. "That was your system?" he whispered.

"So you heard."

The young Guardian nodded his head slowly. "They talked about it at the academy… but they only speculated about what happened."

Patch looked up. "What did they say?"

"That the resident Guardian crashed the system on purpose to stop a virus. They taught it as a last resort, an effective but highly destructive way to prevent a spreading infection." Bob looked kindly at Patch. "Many thought of you as a hero."

"And the rest as a failure?"

"Some felt," Bob allowed, "that a Guardian should never let a problem get that bad. That's why the Guardian Collective exists. We should be able to ask for help."

The medic shook his head. "It wasn't that simple… and that wasn't the way it went down." Patch stood up and stretched his legs before moving over to sit next to Bob on the rumpled bed. "Michelangelo was a dormant virus that woke when Pixel tried to activate one of the corrupted files. She was the first to be infected. Then he spread through the Principal Office, using her to access the labs to reach the security system. From there, he spread his disease like wildfire.

"I received a message from the Commander that was cut off before I could understand what happened. But I already knew that it had to do with Pixel. I raced back to the recovery room to find her gone, and all of the other binomes working in the area missing as well. My keytool, Zip, did a mass scanner and located a growing number of infected Ianalians converging in an open sector.

"As I approached, I watched the infection spread before my eyes, like a cloud of contamination that swept across the system. It moved so fast… but I was confused. I had never seen infected sprites and binomes act the way they did, like they were mass controlled. When I reached the sector, I watched as they just stood there, waiting, their eyes all looking up. I searched for the virus, but could not find him among the Ianalians. Zip could not detect him either, he was too far disseminated among the remaining citizens.

"I returned to the Principal Office to get as much information as I could. It was there I noticed a building power surge."

Bob's eyes widened. "An incoming game?"

"Yes, right where the Ianalians were gathering. But how the virus knew that, or the place where it would land, is beyond me. Before I could do anything more, he sent me a message, requesting I meet with him at the same sector."

"Why?"

"He wanted to make a deal."

Bob's eyes narrowed.

"My thoughts exactly. But what else could I do? I went immediately." Patch shook his head. "He was an ugly son of a null, short fat, and reeking of insidious plans. I knew from the start I couldn't trust him. And then I saw Pixel. She was right there with him, under his control. He'd found my weakness before we'd even spoke a word."

"What did he want?"

"For me to win the incoming game."

"What?" Bob asked. "Why?"

"Because," Patch answered evenly, "all of the Ianalians were going into the game with me."

"To spread infection to the other systems," Bob realized slowly, horror dawning on his face.

"Michelangelo knew he could not just infect the game as system safety measures would cause it to crash to prevent spreading the infection."

"But if the binomes infected and merged with the game sprites, they would be able to travel with the game when it left," Bob finished.

"Or be nullified if the game was lost. That's why he needed me."

"By the User," Bob whispered. "What did you do?"

"I choose the third path. Before I had left the Principal Office, I began the download of a mass anti-virus program, fresh from the Guardian Collective."

"McAfee?"

"Version one."

"Whoa."

"The system went into game mode when the game appeared, and the download finished. I gave Zip the go ahead, and the program was uploaded into every PID and to search and destroy all viral trace elements." Patch looked down at the floor, his voice softening. "You know, after five hours of guarding that system with no mishaps, I didn't consider the possibility that it wouldn't work. I was so sure, I never believed there could be any other result.

"He resisted the anti-virus?"

Patch shook his head. "No. He was the strongest source, so he was treated first. He erased right before me, his format eradicated… but not before he initiated a self-destruct code."

"What? But if the anti-virus deleted him, then why… oh, no."

"Yeah. The Ianalians shared his code through the infection…"

"All of them?"

Patch swallowed. "Pixel erased in my arms. I don't even know if she knew it was me." The medic became quiet, his hands tightening around the bed sheets. "It happened in a matter of nanoseconds. They were all there… and then they were all gone."

Bob stared at his cellmate. He didn't know what to say, his own failures seeming contrite to the disaster that befell Patch's system.

Softly, Patch spoke again. "The system began falling apart with no one to maintain it… and I didn't even bother with the games. I knew I needed to return to the Collective, to report what had happened… and to face my punishment. But I couldn't do it. So I gave up my code and ran."

Bob's body stiffened. "You ran?" he asked, his voice tight. He bit his tongue on any further words, to surprised and angry by the cowardly actions of the sprite he had come to look up to during his capture.

Patch looked at him carefully. "What is her name?" he asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Is it Dot?"

Bob leaned back slightly, his eyes confused. "She's… a good friend."

"So was Pixel, at first. But the Collective wouldn't understand that." Patch turned away and stood, pacing slowly across the cell. "I failed as a Guardian because I let personal feelings get in the way of my format. If Pixel had never been working in the recovery room alone…" He turned to look at Bob. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but the Collective has long had troubles with personal relationships. They've been known to cause problems."

"But the Collective cannot tell Guardians how to live their lives."

"Not unless they had a reason. Pixel may have been that reason."

"That seems a little severe," Bob remarked dryly.

"An entire system was wiped out, nearly a thousand sprites and binomes, because of a petty disagreement with a sprite I loved. How much worse does it need to get?"

Bob said nothing.

"And what about you? If you had to choose between saving a system and Dot… what would you do?"

The blue sprite looked at the floor, unable to handle the penetrating stare of his companion.

"I already know you would do what is right. The point is the Collective does not want Guardians to have to make that choice. This… incident would have given them the fuel they needed to set a policy in place, to prevent relationships that could detriment a Guardian's purpose. I didn't want to ruin that for others." He moved to the cell door and looked out. "But I didn't avoid bearing the responsibility for my actions, either. I did a manual override on Zip, reclaimed my code, and created a portal back to the SuperComputer. Then I tossed him through.

"I initiated a system shut down, but too much equipment was damaged from the games and no repairs. The system began to crash. I used some of the remaining energy from the core to open a portal to the web, I boarded a reinforced shuttle, and I left Ianal forever."

Bob stared in shock. "You condemned yourself to the Web?"

"I'd heard the stories of the horrible things in the Web… and figured it a fitting place to go. The guilt I felt, Bob… when I first saw a Web creature, I experienced fear, real fear, and suddenly realized a life of shame in the Collective would be much more bearable. I never got the chance. Like you, my vessel was captured… by Villanova guards."

Bob sat up straighter. "Wait… you?"

Patch couldn't help but give a sardonic smile. "And you thought it was Blackadder."

The blue Guardian couldn't argue.

"No, I was here for many hours," he continued quietly, his eyes roaming around their cell. "I had accepted my life and considered it my penance for my failure. The Web Sprites thought differently. They knew I was a decent sprite, well, decent enough considering Ianal. They became interested in me because of my Guardian uniform, which placed me at the top of Warden's popularity list. Even in the Web, it was recognized."

Bob frowned. "This warden?"

"No," Patch shook his head. "Her father. She was still a young girl, growing up in a world of criminals, thieves… and innocent men condemned for fun. I think… I think she enjoyed the suffering she saw here, the power her father had over the inmates… she was not right from the start.

"So they helped you escape?"

Patch nodded. "We managed to break out, the first sprites to do so, even though I saw it more as an opportunity to be deleted because I was too scared to do it myself. But we made it, and from there we met Blackadder."

"And you told him all of the secrets about Villanova."

"In exchange for a place on his crew. Once I had a taste of life again, I found I couldn't go back to being an advocate for self-punishment."

"But," Bob argued, "I thought Blackadder hated Guardians."

Patch chuckled. "Well, I didn't tell him about that… at first. I changed my clothes to avoid any further unwanted attention. But, yes, Blackadder does not care for our kind much. His system crashed because the appointed Guardian went rouge, started working for the resident virus, and let the system fall into ruins in exchange for shared ownership of the system. It wasn't long before the virus betrayed her, deleted her, and began making plans to infiltrate the system core to grow stronger.

"Luckily, an internal defense system alerted the Collective to the danger, and the virus was deleted… but not before hundreds of binomes and sprites were affected. Blackadder lost his family and ran away when the system began to repair itself, stowing away on a pirate vessel. He aged, he grew, he learned, and then he led. Despite his outward appearances, he has a good heart, and he wants to help others. But don't tell him I told you that."

"And then you became a member of the crew."

"Yes," Patch agreed, "and I became the medic."

"And now you're back here."

"Sadly, yes."

"And you decided to start telling me all of this because?"

Patch turned and leaned against the wall. "Because I've had those nightmares, too. Because we both made mistakes, mine likely more grave than yours. But its never easy dealing with the death of another, especially when you feel responsible."

Bob's head dipped to stare at the floor. "It was my fault."

Patch quietly walked over to Bob and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are still young, Bob, despite what you say. And you're still learning. You did what you thought was right, you truly did. It just didn't turn out in your favor."

"So I'm going to feel better now? Guilt be gone?" Bob responded patiently, though his tone revealed a touch of irritation.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But your life will be based on your thoughts and decisions from this moment. Choose wisely."

"How did you do it?"

"Through friends. I was in a bad place here, Bob. I wanted deletion. The Web Sprites helped me through. As I will do for you."

Bob sighed. "Well, they helped you escape. How are going to get us out of here?"

Patch stilled, a sigh leaving him. "That… is a good question. We'll have to figure out where her new security measure is to get out."

"How do we do that?" Bob questioned. "How did you do it before?"

"Well," Patch answered. "I got the information from the Warden."

"He just gave it to you?"

Footfalls in the hall cut their conversation short. Patch moved quickly away from the door, hiding his face in the shadows as a guard unlocked their cell. Three stepped in, and the lead guard pointed at Bob.

"You. On your feet."

"At this microsecond?" Bob remained motionless until the two other guards dragged him to his feet.

"You have a private meeting with the Warden."

Bob and Patch shared a look before the blue sprite was hauled away, Patch's eyes silently pleading to him, _Be careful_.

/

_Author's note 1: System Ianal is taken from IANAL, which is apparently internet jargon for I am Not a Lawyer. Never seen that before, but maybe you guys have. _

_Author's note 2: Hi all! Been really busy lately, passed my exams (Yeah!) but am finishing up my final papers for my last two courses. I had more planned for this chapter, but the background took up a lot more pages than I expected. Stay tuned, the next chapter will be out much sooner than the last, and the action will pick up shortly. _

_Thanks for reading!_


	10. Confrontations

Chapter 10: Confrontations

_Author's note: this chapter is dedicated to Angelfish369, Emma, and all those who keep coming back for more. Thanks for reading!_

_Present Second – Mainframe…_

"The bikes will be able to get us in and out of Saugus quickly, and we'll be able to cruise the net to the other unaffected systems before coming back through the portal." AndrAIa looked at Matrix, making sure he was on the same screen as her, but the distant look in his eyes told her other wise. "Enzo."

That got his attention. His eyes turned to hers, clearing as he scowled. "Don't call me that."

"I think a virus could have come in here and you wouldn't have noticed."

The renegade's scowl deepened. "I'm fine," he growled. He leaned forward on the panel and pointed at the arranged transportation. "What is it with you and bikes?"

"What is it with you and Bob?" she countered lightly.

Matrix's hands tightened on the panel, but he remained quiet.

AndrAIa put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in next to him. "Sparky, what happened?"

"Megabyte happened, and everything went to Dell after that." Long fingers gently tilted his face toward the game sprite, a questioning look in her eyes. He sighed. "I've always looked up to him, Andi. Everything I did, it was inspired him. I know I made bad choices… but that's why I felt so ashamed to see him again, because I always wanted to be like him but I completely missed the mark."

"Bob has made bad choices, too," AndrAIa replied. "That makes you two more similar than you realize."

Matrix looked back down at the panel. "But I don't want him to be like me… not like that. Because Bob is supposed to be the hero."

"Are you saying he isn't?"

Matrix turned back to her, his eyes darkening as he again thought of the malicious Web sprite who had turned their little world upside down…

_Matrix stood staring at the doors where Constantia departed, the hustle of the resumed activities unnoticed by him. Her suggestive words rolled around in his head and his fists unconsciously tightened in anger. It wasn't possible, what she said. He knew Bob, he'd seen him in action over and over again, and he never gave into anyone, not even to Dot when they had their fight. _

_ And yet… somehow, the young renegade knew. Something had happened to Bob in the Web, everyone knew that, even if they refused to acknowledge it to the others. He remembered the Web creatures when Mainframe was under attack, recalling the frightening cries and sharp talons of the dangerous animals. There must have been more terrible things out there._

_ Perhaps in a sick joke by the User, Constantia was one of those things. A hideous creature harbored in the beauty of an average data sprite. She could fool anyone…_

_ Matrix's head snapped to the right as he realized AndrAIa was calling him. He glanced up in the direction of Dot's office, the pressure in his chest easing. That was it, of course. She had tricked Bob. That made it bearable. It could have happened to anyone… and Bob would confirm that as soon as the two could talk… _

_ But a seed of doubt had already been planted, and unconsciously Matrix was already questioning the unconditional faith he once had in the Guardian. Soon, even the smallest mistakes began building up into a larger picture that chipped away at Bob's flawless image. The admiration he once had was slowly fading into doubt… and mistrust._

_ When Matrix saw the Guardian heading for the exit of the War Room, the renegade followed in hurried pursuit. He called to the blue sprite, jogging slightly to catch up to him. "Bob, where are you going?"_

_ "To talk with our guest," Bob answered without stopping._

_ "Alone?" Matrix asked in surprise. "Wait, let me come with you."_

_ "No, finish planning the trip to the system. I'll handle this."_

_ Matrix put a hand on Bob's arm, forcing him to stop. "That trip won't do us any good if the Guardians are given a free pass into Mainframe. We should get rid of her first."_

_ Bob shook his head, a shadow coming over his face. "Getting rid of people never solves anything," he replied quietly. "That's why I'm going. I won't let her bring anyone into the system." He gave a reassuring smile. "Trust me." Bob turned away, only to be stopped once more by Matrix's soft reply._

_ "A lot of good that did us last time." The renegade watched Bob's shoulders tense before he slowly turned back, the unspoken question in his eyes. "You know exactly what I mean," Matrix continued. _

_ "No, I don't," Bob countered evenly._

_ Matrix crossed his arms and leaned forward, looking down on the sprite who was once his hero. "You are always against deletion, but did you ever think things would be different if you had just done your job?"_

_ Bob's eyes narrowed but he said nothing._

_ The silence only irritated the youth more. "Why didn't you end Megabyte when you had the chance?"_

_ "It's not that simple," Bob sighed as he looked away. _

_ "Yes, it is!" Matrix snapped. "Look at me, I never went to the academy, and I figured it out! Point and shoot, there, done! But, no, you want to talk it over and make deals and trust the very people that want to stab you in the back!"_

_ Bob winced. "I know a made a mistake-"_

_ "And the rest of us paid for it!"_

_ The Guardian froze at Matrix's harsh words. _

_ Matrix pressed on, ignoring the haunted look in Bob's eyes. "I can't do it, Bob. I can't go through that again, not if I can do something about it." He stepped closer, his voice soft and menacing. "And if you're not sprite enough to do what's necessary, then I will. I won't let Dot get hurt again."_

_ Like a gate slamming shut, Bob's emotions disappeared under a mask of controlled anger. He closed the distance between the two, not showing the least bit of intimidation to the renegade's towering presence. "If you want to blame me for what happened, fine, I can live with that. But don't you ever think that I will let anything happen to Dot, or to you, or to anyone I care about."_

_ "An hour ago, I would have believed that."_

_ "An hour ago you were still a child, and you still have a lot to learn."_

_ Matrix's fists clenched in anger. "I am not a little sprite anymore, Bob!"_

_ "Then act like it, Matrix!" Bob replied sharply. "Your sister gave you an order to help another system, so obey your code and do it!"_

_ Matrix was ready to tell Bob where he could put his code when a feminine drawl cut in. The renegade turned to see Mouse and AndrAIa standing in the doorway to the War Room._

_ "Yes, Mouse, we're fine," Bob answered tightly to the Hacker's inquiry, his eyes never leaving Matrix. _

_ "Matrix? I need help with securing transportation in system Saugus," AndrAIa called across the hall, her eyes neutral but her tone worried. _

_The green sprite looked back at Bob. "This isn't over," he muttered before turning back towards the War Room, silence the only reply heard in the hallway…_

"You blame him for what happened with Megabyte," AndrAIa said softly after he finished recalling the events in the hall.

"It should never have gotten that far," Matrix answered. "He never should have let Megabyte live that long, he never should have made me a cadet that early, and he never should have become a Guardian if he couldn't do what was necessary to protect a system," he finished bitterly.

AndrAIa moved away from him, his anger at his long time hero shocking her. She knew he had issues with what had happened an hour ago… but this was so much worse than she imagined. For a brief moment, a sliver of fear formed in her heart. Would Matrix ever be able to forgive Bob for this?

"Sparky," AndrAIa began softly, "a lot has happened, and now with Daemon… we haven't had time to deal with the past hour. Right now," she gripped his hand, "we need to be strong, as a team, if we're going to defeat Daemon. If we fall apart from the inside then Mainframe is going to fall to the infection."

Matrix took a deep breath. "Andi, I'm so angry."

"I know," she whispered and pulled him into a hug. "I know. But don't let it hold you back. Use it against Daemon… but not against Bob." She pulled away and held his face in her hand. "First the win the war… then get the answers. Ok?"

Matrix nodded. "Ok."

She kissed him softly then pulled away with a smile. "Now, let's go check out those bikes."

"You still never answered _my_ question," Matrix complained while he was pulled out of the War Room to the transportation area.

"You'll see," AndrAIa grinned.

/

_Past - Villanova..._

The door clicked shut. Bob looked behind him as the guards left then peered around the lavish room. Expensive furniture and decorations glittered in the fire light. The atmosphere was warm, comforting, inviting. It was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace and torches. Bob could see no one else in the room.

His eyes caught on an ornate cabinet against the far wall. Inside, something silver glinted. He realized it was the keys to the transports. Blackadder had stolen one from there… but without knowing the override to access the tear, the keys were useless.

"Planning your escape?"

Bob looked to his left at the soft voice, and gazed dispassionately at the Warden. Dressed in thin red silks and dainty sandals, she leaned against the wall leading to another room, her arms crossed and a calculating smile on her lips. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, highlighting her face in a look of beckoning beauty.

She stepped into the room lightly, her silk shawl billowing softly with her movement. "That would be rather rude. You just got here." She moved in front of him, her height coming only an inch or two below his own. "And I'd much rather have you stay."

Bob said nothing.

Constantia cocked her head to the side, a half smile on her lips. "What, no witty comment? What a shame," she said in mock pity, "you were such a wonderful conversationalist before." As the silence stretched, her smile widened and her voice dropped to a whisper. Stepping closer, she placed her mouth close to his ear. "Or maybe you are simply a sprite of action. Does danger thrill you?"

Again, the Guardian stood silent.

She moved her head until her lips were a breath from his. Gazing deep into his eyes, she ran her tongue across her top lip and whispered, "I'm dangerous. Are you thrilled yet?" Her hands came up and pressed against his chest, her mouth lifting to his.

A gasp left her and her forward movement stopped when her wrists were roughly seized and pushed away from his body. Staring down at her, his hands holding tightly to her wrists, Bob spoke.

"Danger must thrill you if you are foolish enough to entertain a prisoner who is un-cuffed."

A soft laugh answered him. "And what are you going to do, hero? Hurt me? Chain me to a wall? Delete me, even?" Her face became smug. "Not likely." A sudden twist of her arms enabled her to break free from his grasp, and she backed away gracefully. "And, as you can see, I am quite capable of taking care of myself."

Turning away, she moved across the room to a table with various carafes. "Are you thirsty?" Despite his silence, she poured two glasses of a light colored liquid. Smiling, she carried them over. "Here," she pressed the glass into his hand, "you will find the dining much better up here." She gave a sultry smirk. "And the company."

Bob held her gaze for a moment. "Not likely," he mocked her earlier words. He took a small amount of satisfaction in the spark of anger at his insult, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

She covered her slip of composure with a sip before she sank down onto an oversized chair, crossing her legs demurely before him. "So," she drawled, "you want to be a Guardian?"

Bob's mouth tightened.

"Associating with a band of rebels might not be the best way to go about that," she smirked. "But you're an intelligent sprite. I'm sure you already knew that." She took another sip and looked him over, her penetrating gaze leaving Bob distinctly uncomfortable. "Not a Guardian, not a pirate, not a rebel, and not a killer.

"So, Interface. Who are you really?"

Bob, now tired of standing while she played guessing games, moved away from her toward the drink table. He set down his glass, turned, and leaned against the table with his arms crossed. As always, his face revealed nothing.

"Not even a clue?"

Silence.

Constantia chuckled into her drink. "All right then." She leaned further back into her seat, getting herself comfortable. "Most people don't choose to be outlaws. Their hand is forced. You did not come to the Web of your own volition.

"You are well spoken, so highly educated. You are passionate about the well being of your friends, so you value life over death. You are courageous… so you are very foolish. And you do not accept failure, so you are a sprite used to getting his own way." She stood gracefully and stepped closer to him.

"When you speak, others listen. When you want something, you obtain it. And when you play, you play for keeps. My guess?" she said lightly. She stopped in front of him. "Royalty."

Bob's eyes widened. He hadn't expected that, and he held back the sudden urge to laugh in her face.

"Play it cool all you want, Interface. A sprite used to having a position of power, but with too much of a rebellious streak to conform to the demands of society and politics… running away to sail with the scum of the net in the horrors of the Web as a hero in disguise." She clucked her tongue at him. "Such a romantic notion. Bet the girls fall all over you, don't they?" She leaned in. "Am I close?"

Bob shook his head. _Royalty?_ The closest he'd come to that was in a dream he'd had, where he spoke another language and had wings. "Kilometers off the mark."

She shrugged. "So you say. But regardless of where you came from, you are still here… and you are still mine."

Bob stilled; his face neutral save for the cool anger in his eyes.

"You don't like that?" Once again, she stepped in close to him, their height equal as he leaned against the table. Looking deep into his eyes, she purred, "It doesn't have to be that way. Would you care to make a deal?"

"I don't think so," Bob answered quietly.

"No?" she asked in mock surprise. "Why, you haven't even heard the conditions?"

"The death of my friends is too steep," he glowered.

"Then how about for their lives?"

Bob leaned back slightly, a scowl forming on his features. "Funny, that sounds a lot more like blackmail."

"I will release them."

Bob scoffed and looked at the floor. "Yeah, right."

"In exchange for you."

His eyes lifted, his body tense.

"Stay with me willingly," she appeased him, "be my friend, and I will let them go." One hand lifted, and she traced a finger gently along his long silver hair. "Think about it, Interface. This is no different than that which you offered me."

"And you expect me to trust your word?"

"Do you have a choice?" She smiled. "We both want something. You want your friends' freedom and I want a permanent playmate." Brazenly, she placed a hand across his cheek. "Really, would it be so bad? In the Web, you were taking orders. Here, you can give them." She leaned in, speaking softly, "_I_ can give you that power."

Bob remained quiet, patiently ignoring her constant come-ons. He didn't believe her words, not for one nano, but being anywhere but trapped in his cell was a better chance for escape. And if she really thought he could be turned by charms… maybe he could play her for a fool. She was so much like Hex, after all, and he'd dealt with the random virus' frightening affections all the time.

He watched her, trying to gage her reaction to his stoicism. To his surprise, she seemed pleased. It occurred to him she thought his resolve was weakening. He supposed, in a way, it was.

"I will let you go back to your cell. Of course I don't expect an answer from you now. For one so used to being in control, I shall let you accept my offer on your own terms." She patted his cheek slightly. "See? I can be very agreeable." She turned away and called to the guards, who came in and secured Bob again in a pair of metal cuffs.

Before he could be taken from the room, Constantia stood before him again. "One more thing, Hero. A taste of things to come." Reaching up, she threaded both hands into his hair and pulled his head to hers, capturing his lips with hers.

He didn't move, his eyes never leaving hers as he watched her pull away a moment later. She settled into a satisfied smile before waving her hand, gesturing him to be taken from her chambers. As he was escorted out, he felt her eyes burning into his back long into the hall.

_Author's Note 1: Bob's dream about being royalty is a nod to Author Askani Blue. If you haven't read the ReBoot story '_Before'_ you are missing out. Go, do so now!_

_Author's Note 2: Wow, back to back chapters this weekend, woot! If you've noticed the chapters are a little shorter, I've decided to cut back a little to get the story out more frequently… and because this thing is turning into a novel! But, don't worry, on my side the end is in sight! Somewhere… down that long road… near the end… yeah._

_As for my next post, it certainly won't be as long of a wait as before, but I wouldn't expect anything up before Friday. I've been finding more time on the weekends to write, so I'd like to get the next chapter up within a week. _

_As always, feel free to leave comments and critiques (constructive only, please, no story bashing, it tends to ruin my day). Thank you!_


	11. Forget Me Not

CoP 11: Forget Me Not

_Author's Note: All right. To my fellow writers, a valuable lesson in etiquette: You do not control the story, the muse does. When she says "write", you write. When she says "I'm taking a vacation to Bermuda, don't call me," you're screwed. So, I shall no longer dictate to her when my next chapter will be written because when she's in a bad mood, oh boy, do I get the worse case of writer's block EVER! _

_Author's Note 2: This chapter is dedicated to ComicFan209, Emma, and Angelfish369 for your continued encouragement! Thank you to everyone who continues to travel along with us, I hope you are enjoying the ride!_

"I'm going to do it."

"You know she won't let us go."

Bob sighed as he leaned against the bunk bed frame. "Yes. But if I can get her to think I'm on her side, I might be able to figure out a way to get us out." He looked at Patch, who sat quietly on the floor in his usual place. "How did you do it, last time?"

Patch took a breath. "Well, like I said I didn't do it alone. I had the aid of some WebSprites who were in as bad shape as I was. We were all mutually disliked by the Warden, but only I was able to communicate with him… well, myself and one other."

"One other?" Bob asked.

Patch nodded. "Yes. A WebSprite who still retained the abilities to speak normally but who could also communicate through WebSpeak. He was the one who taught me enough to get by while I was here, and who introduced me to those who would aid in my escape."

"He didn't go with you?"

Patch shook his head. "We tried to get as many sprites out as we could, but at the time there were too many guards. Myself and 10 other WebSprites managed to escape in one of the shuttles, but he stayed behind to free sprites from the inside."

"You told me you got the information to escape from the Warden. How did you do that?"

Patch looked at Bob evenly. "Those the Warden held in high regards," he muttered sarcastically, "were used for experiments. He tried out new "toys" on his favorites."

Bob shuddered as images filled his head of what those toys could be.

"He had a real passion for controlling others, but he did have one weakness: his love for the drink. One second, he abided too much. He got sloppy, didn't pay attention to what he was doing, and left me un-cuffed. I took him by surprise, released the others, and we… persuaded him to tell us the way out. Then we put him out of his misery."

"You… deleted him?"

Patch nodded. "Couldn't have him following us, or alerting the guards to what happened." He frowned. "That surprises you?"

It did. "I can't do that," he said after a pause.

"You might not have a choice, if you want to survive."

Bob shook his head. "No. I don't believe in deletion, and I don't believe in the no-win scenario. There's always another way." He began to pace the cell.

"It's not always that easy, Bob."

"I'll figure it out. Whatever happened to the other sprite?" Bob asked quickly to change the subject.

"He's still here."

Bob paused in his pacing, a frown forming on his brow before his eyes lit up in recognition. "Commodore?"

"Yes."

"But… he was going to come with us."

"The WebSprites who I left with formed a group called the WebRiders. They gather up sprites lost or condemned in the Web and give them a place to call home. Blackadder and I have been working closely with them, providing aid and support whenever we can. In return, they help us fight against the injustices we find across the Web.

"Blackadder promised to take Commodore to the leader of the Riders and bring back a small army to free the others and destroy Villanova for good. Commodore has been providing us the information on the guards, the power grids, the interactions of Constantia and everything else he could access to help us escape."

"And now Constantia knows he helped us."

"As far as we know, yes." His eyes bore into Bob's. "He may not be alive anymore to help us. If that's the case… then you might be our only hope."

Bob stared back at Patch, clearly understanding the message. "I'm sorry, Patch," he replied. "I will do everything I can, but deletion is out of the question."

Patch took a breath. "She took Blackadder."

"What?"

"While you were gone, the guards came down and took him." He leaned forward. "Just what do you think she's doing to him right now?"

Bob swallowed.

"Now stand there and tell me you can justify valuing her life over another's."

Bob flinched, dropping his gaze. For a moment, he said nothing, his mind chewing on Patch's words. He knew in his heart he couldn't delete her… it went against everything he believed in. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

Bob raised his eyes. "Take a life… and live with it?"

"The same way you will," Patch answered softly. "You must find something to live for, and fight for it with all of your core. Then learn to live with the consequences."

"What did you live for?"

Patch smiled. "My code. I wanted to give it up… but I couldn't change my formatting, no matter how hard I tried. Sprites were in trouble here. I couldn't go against my code." He gave a dry laugh. "I still can't. Look at me, I am a medic, for User's sake. I just couldn't stop mending."

Bob couldn't help but smile in return.

"And you," Patch continued, "you'll still go on defending. No matter what the cost."

Bob's smile faded as he considered Patch's words. "What if I'm not that strong?"

"You've made it this far, haven't you?" Carefully, Patch stood and placed his hands on Bob's shoulders. "Don't start doubting yourself now. Learn from your mistakes, and keep moving forward." He cracked another smile. "Preferably away from here. Far, far away from here."

"I second that."

Patch squeezed Bob's shoulders. "So… what are you going to do?"

Bob looked out the cell door. "Guard!" he called. He looked back at Patch and said with a quiet confidence, "I'm going to get us out of here." A heavy breath left him. "Whatever it takes."

/

"Back so soon?" Constantia purred as Bob was escorted into her chambers. "I knew you were decisive, but I will admit I am surprised."

"Where is Blackadder?"

"Who?"

Bob crossed his arms and glared.

"Straight to the point. I like that in a sprite." Constantia stood before him, crossing her arms in return. "He is otherwise detained right now."

"Let him and the others go."

"Not yet. He has something I need."

Bob stared hard at her before shaking his head in disbelief. "After you just offered to release them for me, now you're going back on your word? I don't know why you bother talking at all."

"As I said, I didn't expect you back so quickly," she replied evenly, unfazed by his annoyance. "And I intend to return him once I have what I want… however long it takes." She looked carefully at Bob, her eyes sweeping up and down his form once. "Maybe you can speed up the process."

Bob's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"How close are you to your captain?" she pressed, ignoring his question. She snapped her fingers. "Does he confide in you?"

"What?"

"Blackadder used one of my WebSprites to plan an escape. He could not have done this without help," she hissed quietly. "The question is, how much do you know about it?"

Bob's mouth opened to speak but his words were cut off by the opening of the door and the deposit of the red sprite at Bob's feet. Bob dropped to his knees and grasped Blackadder's bloody shoulders, turning him onto his side and gaping at the numerous wounds spread throughout his bruised chest and back. The captain gasped and grabbed at his head, a soft cry of denial escaping him as his body shook in pain.

The Guardian's brown eyes flashed up at the Warden, his voice growling in anger. "What did you do to him?"

"I did nothing," she smiled sweetly. Her eyes left Bob's to stare pointedly behind him.

Turning, Bob looked up into the black, dead eyes of the WebSprite, Commodore. He stood unmoving at the door, his arms resting calmly by his sides. "You?" he whispered.

"All of my sprites are loyal to me, and only me," Constantia drawled, calling Bob's attention back to her as she sat in her chair. "Commodore informed me of Blackadder's plan from the start. I ordered him to assist… in the hopes of figuring out where Blackadder received all of the secrets about my home." She rested her head in her hand, smiling softly at Bob. "I watched step by step as Blackadder revealed to us how the only escape attempt ever made was successful. Of course, I had the portal generator disabled on your transport before you all left."

_There is no access code to the tear,_ Bob thought as he gently eased Blackadder into a more comfortable position on the floor, his hands cradling the damaged sprite's head. His golden eyes were open but barely coherent, shivers of pain racking his body in Bob's arms. Something was happening inside of him, pulling him from the present into a closed system of pain.

Looking back up at Constantia, he asked, "What is wrong with him?"

Constantia smiled. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way," she ignored him. "Once we secured your transport, he was supposed to come out and bargain. I wanted the sprite who led the escape from here. He wanted to be released. We would have accomplished both."

Bob glared. "You would have deleted all of them," he predicted.

"Of course. I can't let word get out that I'm getting soft around here, can I?"

Bob shook his head. "Then why did you spare us? Is this all some sick game for your amusement?"

She brought her elbows onto her knees and rested her chin on her knuckles, her face pulled together in an innocent gesture of curiosity, her green gaze resting on the bleeding sprite. "I thought he would come out bargaining for mercy." Her eyes flicked up to Bob's. "But I got you instead… much to my delight."

"I can't give you the information you seek," Bob lied. "I'm useless to you."

"Oh, you are anything but useless," she purred. "You want to save your friends, don't you? You'll do anything to keep them from harm… no matter the cost." She stared hard into his brown eyes, her green ones glinting like cold steel. "That is why I kept you and your friends alive, because a hero is easy to control."

Bob looked down at Blackadder to hide his grimace. She was right… and she knew it. His anger began to build as he spoke softly. "You told me no one would get hurt but then you deleted my friend. You told me you would let them go if I stayed but now you are letting him suffer." He shook his head, his voice becoming bitter as he stared helplessly at the bleeding captain. "If I'm always going to lose, why keep trying? How can you control me if I don't care anymore?"

There was a pause before a sharp clatter rang out beside him. Bob looked down to see a long knife resting by his boot, dropped by the traitorous WebSprite.

"Manual syntax error," Constantia said quietly. She nodded at Blackadder when Bob raised his questioning eyes. "We placed a small corruption in his processor, and now he cannot compile properly. You seem educated enough, I'm sure you understand how painful that can be."

He did. The bruises and cuts were just the beginning, micro-tears forming on the surface based on the location of the incorrect source code in his processor. The wounds would worsen as the body was no longer able to heal properly. Then the tears would go deeper, into the organs. Soon, dementia would set in, memory would erase, his body would begin to shut down… and then he would defragment.

It could take minutes for the error to cause complete corruption…

"So if you really don't care," Constantia continued softly, "you could just let him suffer. Dell, you're here because of him anyway, aren't you?" The fabric on her chair rustled as she became more comfortable. "Or you can show him mercy… and delete him now."

Bob stiffened.

"He might break and tell me what I want to know, but that could take a long time. Of course, by then, he would be too far damaged to repair by replacing the errored code… but why should that concern you?" She gestured her head towards the knife. "Go ahead, Interface. End him now. Show me you are in control of yourself. Show me you don't care."

Bob didn't move. His eyes closed and his hands tightened around Blackadder's convulsing frame, his jaw clenching in frustration as he realized he was trapped yet again by the cold-hearted Warden. She was always in control.

His head lifted when he felt her close, her movements so quick and light he did not realize she kneeled beside him until her face was inches from his own.

"You won't do it," she whispered to him. "Do you know why?" She smiled with anything but warmth. "Because your emotions make you weak, Interface," she answered quietly, speaking slowly as if to a child. "And because you will never be able to turn your back on another, no matter how much it hurts you. For this, you will always lose."

With one hand she stroked the side of Blackadder's face, now gleaming with sweat and twisted in pain. "Tell me what you know, Interface," she encouraged. "Tell me everything, about the escape, about the sprite who gave him this information… and I will correct the error."

Bob stared at his friend, his mind turning as rapidly as it could. How much could he reveal to save Blackadder without endangering Patch, the very sprite she was looking for? He couldn't trade one for the other… Constantia shifted beside him and he caught a glint from the knife as she returned it to the WebSprite.

'_I can't delete anyone…'_

'_You may not have a choice, if you want to survive,'_ Patch's voice whispered in his mind.

With a mental shake, Bob cancelled the thought as quickly as it came. Even if he had the stomach for it, Constantia possessed the location of the syntax error in Blackadder's system, a disparity so small it could require reading millions of code streams manually to find. Not to mention Commodore might delete him right there for even trying.

Bob's breath caught. _Commodore. _ The WebSprite betrayed them to Constantia, revealing their escape plans… But if she had wanted to know what happened before and he was loyal to her, then why didn't he tell her? What was _he_ playing at? He must have seen Patch on the transport… why didn't he just turn the Guardian over to her?

Bob's thoughts were broken by a painful gasp. He laid his hand against Blackadder's head, stroking the tangled black hair in a gesture of comfort.

"Tick, tock, Hero," Constantia mocked gently. She gazed at him, peering deep as if trying to figure out his next move.

Bob felt the anger begin to erode at the hope in his heart. Despair was filling up inside of him, drowning out his belief that there was always a way to win. His emotions were eating away at his ability to think rationally, pushing him to do something rash, wanting him to do anything to wipe that smirk off her face, to get back at the sprite who betrayed them-

In a flash, an idea came to him. Maybe he wouldn't have to risk Patch at all, not with a little misdirection…

"This isn't about the escape," Bob spoke quietly, letting his voice be as deflated as possible, his eyes dropping in a gesture of defeat. "You don't care about how they got out. You just want to know what happened to your father."

Her hand grasped under his chin and pulled his gaze up to hers. "You know?" she asked, eagerness barely detectable in her voice.

"Yes," Bob answered, all fight gone from him. "And so does Commodore."

Constantia froze. Her eyes shifted to the WebSprite.

"Why do you think Blackadder approached him?" he glanced at the degraded sprite, whose reaction was nothing but cold stoicism. "He knew exactly who to go to regarding escape. The expert who helped the others.

"Go ahead, Commodore," Bob prodded. "Show your loyalty to your Warden. Tell her the truth." Bob noticed he was becoming edgy, uncomfortable with the Guardian's accusatory tone and the questioning stare of the female sprite.

Bob held his breath as he waited fro the WebSprite to begin denying everything… but he seemed at a loss for words. Constantia simply stared, something working deep behind her green eyes.

Between the two, he could see the lingering doubt. It was time to press. _User, forgive me._

"Blackadder believed in you… and now he's dying," Bob glared at him, putting as much despair into his voice as he could muster. "I'm not going to choose between protecting him… and protecting you."

He saw Constantia's eyes narrow as she returned her cold gaze to him.

"You want the sprite who deleted your father?" He jerked his head at the WebSprite, placing sole blame on the sprite who betrayed them. "He's all yours. Have at it."

Constantia was silent, her face drawn in concentration. She looked at the WebSprite, who shifted nervously, his tentacle-like hands flicking in irritation.

Commodore did not look angry or afraid… merely confused. For the first time since entering the room, he spoke in a gravely, broken tone of barely discernable basic. "I-I don't know." A small amount of panic entered his voice. "Warden, did I…" he trailed off, the question evident in his tone.

Bob was surprised by the sincerity in his voice… and the clear uncertainty of the accusation. He seemed more upset than anything… and he kept looking to her for guidance… like she had the answers…

Like he was waiting for her to tell him what to do.

Bob's mouth fell open as he put the pieces together. "You're controlling him?" Bob asked her in disbelief.

She stood and held up her hand towards the WebSprite. "Log off," she commanded. He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor in a sitting position. Instantly, he was asleep. Constantia looked down at Bob, her face carefully controlled.

Bob stared at the now dozing sprite. "You programmed him with an enslavement code. He can't function without you." Bob's heart skipped as he realized the degraded sprite didn't betray them, willingly at least.

She said nothing while she walked up to her chair, her back to him.

His mind turned rapidly. She could be controlling every guard and WebSprite in the jail, putting them all into one mindset: her own. It made sense, someone so small and delicate in stature possessing the power to dominate such an aggressive environment.

But if she could control sprites… "Why didn't you just use the enslavement code on Blackadder?" Bob asked quietly. "He would have told you everything."

She remained silent.

Bob glanced down at his wounded friend, confused. Why go through all this trouble? Why force them to give her the information when they could give it up willingly at her request? Why didn't she just ask Commodore right then if the accusation was true-

_DRAM._

It hit him with the force of a dropping game cube.

"Of course," he uttered. "You couldn't. You're using a Dynamic Random Access Memory code, aren't you?"

She turned to him, her face void of expression but her eyes giving her away.

Bob shook his head. DRAM codes were brilliant tools created by doctors to help sprites repair damaged memory circuits and were intended for temporary use. Newer models were supposed to allow complete reprogramming of memories for those with severe cases of memory loss or disruption… "But you didn't know the upgraded codes had problems," Bob predicted. "You reprogrammed Commodore into thinking he worked for you… and the malfunctioning code completely erased his previous memories."

"I missed it," she whispered, her eyes staring off into the distance. "I caught him trying to help others escape… I used the code to get him to willingly reveal everything he knew, but his memory was wiped." She looked down at the ground, her hands curling into fists. "I thought he came up with those escape paths himself. I never considered he had helped the first time…

"He made a fool of me."

Bob, seeing an opportunity to reach the sprite in her vulnerable moment, called her name softly. "He doesn't know that. He can't remember. It's over now. You've already taken his identity from him. He is powerless to you. Your revenge is complete."

She looked down at him, her green gaze seeming to look right through him.

Never taking her eyes from the blue sprite, she ordered Commodore awake. Without preamble, she commanded, "Delete yourself."

"No!" Bob shouted, but could do nothing as the WebSprite turned his knife on himself, and dropped to the floor before flickering out of existence. Only a small black disc remained of the elder sprite.

"Yes, Interface. Now my revenge is complete."

Bob's heart sank. Another one dead, because of him. He was sickened by the thought… and by the small amount of comfort that Patch was now safe.

Blackadder spasmed, a sharp cry leaving him as a fresh wound opened on his arm. Bob pressed his hand against the gash, attempting to staunch the blood seeping onto the floor. "Constantia," he looked up to her. "Repair his code."

The warden said nothing as she retrieved the black icon. She stared coldly at the injured sprite, all traces of her flirtatious humor gone from her face. "No," she answered flatly.

"You got your answer," Bob argued desperately. "The syntax error is killing him. Repair his code!"

"His life means nothing to me," she said, her voice low and empty. "Neither of yours does. You both can rot in Dell for all I care." She turned, dismissing them with such indifference as to not even call for her guards. She moved toward the adjacent room.

Bob stared at the sulking sprite, briefly reminded of a child who had lost a game and had no further interest in playing with others. In a matter of nanos, Bob had turned her carefully controlled world on its head and her ego wasn't taking well to it. Now she was withholding the cure for Blackadder simply out of spite. As much as he hated it, he needed her to be in charge again. He had to return that power to her.

Even if it meant _he_ would paid for it.

He stood, and with three long strides, halted her departure by grasping her arm. Turning her none too gently, he pulled her body to his, his eyes catching her look of surprise before he pressed his mouth firmly to hers. She struggled only briefly then melted against him, her free hand wrapping itself into his long, silver strands.

After a moment, he pulled away. His face still close to hers, he stared evenly into her wide, green eyes. "Repair his code," he demanded softly.

In response, her eyes closed part way, their sight lingering on his lips before casually meeting his again. "You will stay with me," she stated, leaving no room for argument.

A slow smile, small but distinct, spread across her face at his solitary nod. As if the past few nanos had never happened, the playful sprite was back in Bob's presence, the interest of the game once again glowing in her green gaze. Her eyes glittered, and Bob had the distinct feeling that he had just made a deal with the devil.

"Guards!" she called as she pulled away from the Guardian.

Two of the four guards pinned the writhing captain to the floor while she walked over to a small device. Pulling a green and gold icon from a pocket in her top, she placed it between two metallic plates. A field of energy absorbed the icon and enabled it to float inside a small purple bubble. Streams of data flowed through the icon as it spun rapidly in figure eights. Nanoseconds later, the bubble burst and Constantia retrieved the icon. She knelt beside the red sprite, placed the icon on his belt and tapped the icon twice.

A purple beam shot across Blackadder's body, like the field of green energy that engulfed a sprite or binome when one Rebooted in a game. Instantly it was gone, and the captain's body stilled from his previous convulsions. His breathing evened, his body relaxed, and almost immediately the small bleeding wounds began to heal.

Bob heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the sprite's gold eyes slowly open and take stock of his surroundings. _Thank the User._ Stepping forward to help his friend, he was surprised to be stopped by the two remaining guards. They seized his arms and held him firmly in place. Before Bob could protest, Constantia stepped in front of him.

"Now for you."

She held up between her slender fingers the black disc that had belonged to Commodore. "I didn't want to do this," she said sadly. "I prefer you as you are, strong willed and defiant. But, now that you know, I can't risk you using it against me."

Panic began to grow in his stomach when he realized it was the DRAM code. She was going to erase his memory! "You don't need that," Bob persuaded, keeping his voice as calm as possible. "I already told you I would stay."

"And not make any attempt at escape? Oh, Hero, we both know you are much too clever for that." A great sigh left her as she pressed the icon onto his shirt at the center of his chest. "What a shame. I will miss your humor… but we'll find other ways for you to amuse me." Her smile turned predatory, her eyes glinting in anticipation as her hand hovered over the disc.

Megabyte flashed into Bob's mind, his feral grin sending shivers down Bob's spine as he pressed the launch button. Now Constantia was about to blast him once more into the unknown. _No, not again!_ With a surge of strength fueled by fear, Bob managed to break free of one guard, swinging his arm around in a knockout left hook that slammed the guard into the wall. Turning to disable the second sprite, he was unprepared for the blow to the back of his neck.

Crying out in pain, the force of the strike dropped him to his knees. Through his hazy vision, he saw one of the guards who had held Blackadder standing over him, a baton brandished in his hand. The guard who hit the wall was back at Bob's side, grabbing his arm and twisting it painfully behind his back. The angle of his arm forced Bob's chest out, his head falling back in a grimace as his body resisted the unnatural position.

A gentle touch on his face drew his eyes open. The Warden leaned close, smiled, and her hand moved down to his chest. Bob's heart raced as memories of Mainframe clicked by, Dot's face appearing in every slide.

_Dot…_

Bob did everything he could to hold onto her image as Constantia tapped the disc, releasing its software into his system and overriding his memory circuits. He watched her cruel smile fade as he fell into darkness…


	12. Masquerade

CoP 12: Masquerade

_Emma, ComicFan, AngelFish: thanks for your support, guys. I always look forward to what you have to say after I post. I take comfort in knowing you are willing and able to share your thoughts, and it helps keep me motivated. Hope you enjoy. _

_Mainframe – Present Second_

Just as she had promised, the transport was docked at pier 101. One guard stood outside of the small vessel, moving only to report the Guardian's arrival. Landing gently by the transport, Bob said nothing as he was beckoned onboard, the guard following silently behind him. Inside, a second guard was powering up the transport.

The Guardian was pointed to a seat in the back. Bob took his place and stared out the view port at the blue sky of Mainframe over the rippling energy sea. The two guards were communicating quietly, finishing the preparations for entering the Web.

Bob took no notice of their words. He could only hear Matrix's voice echoing in the hall near the War Room. _ 'If you're not sprite enough to do what is necessary…' _

The transport lifted into the air, picking up speed as it neared the dome-shaped boundary of the system's ceiling. A beam shot forth and with a flash of purple, orange, red, and blue, the Web opened up before them.

Bob's fists tightened as he gazed upon the swirling doorway. He had done what was necessary to protect Mainframe, to close the portal… Trusting the viruses was the only way to do that… Mainframe would have been destroyed by the web creatures otherwise…

_Would the first Web Creature have come… if no viruses had been in Mainframe?_

Bob's gut clenched, his heart again unable to face the whispered question that had plagued him many times in the darkest microseconds of the night. _'…if you had just done your job…_' Matrix mocked once more.

One of the guards stood from his chair and turned to a panel on the far wall, flipping some switches and creating an energy field around the transport to protect it from the Web's harmful atmosphere. His movement broke Bob's dark thoughts, returning him to the present. As the guard turned back to the view port, Bob's quick eyes caught the black disc on his chest.

Unconsciously, Bob's hand reached up and touched his own icon, recalling when he had been forced to bear the same mark, and wincing as phantom pain shot through him…

/

_Past - Villanova_

Fire. User, he was on fire. He was being burned alive from the inside out. His voice was screaming in pain, the sound echoing in his ears until he thought he would be deaf from the onslaught. For the first time in his life, he desired deletion. _Please!_ his voice begged in the vast darkness. _Please make it stop!_

Bob felt like every circuit in his body was hot wired to Mainframe's core, every pathway sizzling with electricity. The new software was like tiny nulls snaking through him, their colorful bodies eating away at him from his fingernails to the tips of his hair. He tried to hold onto the last image his mind conjured: the loving face of Dot, her green skin smooth and her ruby lips inviting, the violet eyes staring at him with the comfort he so desperately needed. He screamed as her face began to disappear, pixel by pixel, fading away into the growing darkness.

_No, no, no, stop!_

And it did.

His eyes opened. He was lying on his back in a warmly decorated room. Above him, two sprites stood, their eyes turned away from him. Voices were arguing… but he couldn't make out the words. His body ached with fever and his throat felt hoarse. He attempted to speak and found he could not make any words. Instead, he simply breathed. Then he heard her voice.

"He belongs to me. From now on, he will only do as I command."

His body reacted. He felt drawn to the voice, overwhelmed by the need to obey… and then the burning sensation crashed through him again. He groaned in pain, his arms coming across his stomach as if to protect himself from an enemy he could not see. From a great distance, he felt the slightest caress on his cheek, and that same voice whispering to him. Eventually, the words became more than a soft drone.

"Interface, look at me."

His eyes opened and a beautiful face smiled down at him.

"Get away from him!" a male voice shouted only to be quickly subdued, the sound of flesh hitting flesh soon followed by a hiss of pain.

His attention was drawn back to the woman before him. "It will pass," she soothed in a low voice that sent shivers through him. "Don't fight it." Her hands reached down and lifted him into a sitting position, her small frame betraying the strength her body possessed to move his form so easily. He groaned again as dizziness sent nausea through him.

Her hands ran through his hair, cradling his head and pressing it against her neck. "Breath deep, my sweet," she instructed, and he did, his arms coming up behind her and hugging her close. The burning did not ease, but it was becoming bearable.

"Where am I?" he asked quietly, his voice sounding strange to his ears, as if hearing it for the first time.

"You are home," she answered, and he smiled. _Home,_ he thought. _Yes, I am._

_Home, Sweet Home. _

…the picture of the SuperComputer in his apartment-

_It was nice to visit, but it sure is good to be home… _

The burning raged through him again and he gasped. Involuntarily, his hold tightened on the woman, and she sighed in response. "It's ok, Interface," she whispered into his ear. "We have all the time in the world now." 

_Oh, really? I'm surprised you could find time in that busy schedule of yours to save your own brother…_

"Damn you."

He turned his head against the sprite's warm neck, his eyes opening to stare over at a red sprite with fury filled golden eyes. He was on his hands and knees, his long black hair falling in messy tangles around him. Two male sprites stood on either side of him, both wielding long sticks and poised to strike at any moment.

Their eyes met, and he could see a flash of desperation in the gold irises, begging something. But he didn't know what. The gold gaze flicked away to glare at the female sprite.

"He will fight you. He's stronger than you can possibly imagine," he hissed in between painful breaths. "You will never control him."

"Too late," the musical voice responded.

With a gentle push, he was moved away from her warm embrace, her hands caressing his jaw as she tilted his head, her green eyes piercing. "Interface loves me now. Don't you, my pet?"

He stared at her, his hand coming up to caress the side of her face, the skin so soft under his touch. He smiled. "I do," he whispered. The burning was a distant ache, the constant buzz nothing more than white noise to him as he memorized her face. She was so beautiful. She looked…

_….amazing. What a babe._

_ I heard that._

He flinched, the burning turning into a sharp jab right through his heart. He watched the female sprite's expression change from one of expectancy to one of concentration. Her thumb stroked across his cheek and his face relaxed under her gentle ministrations. Slowly, his smile returned.

"You are strong," she whispered, "and now you will only be strong for me." Slowly she stood, her hands falling away from his face while she took a step back.

Instantly, he was on his feet, his hands reaching out for hers, pulling himself as close to her as he could. She laughed, and his heart raced. He loved her laugh. He loved her. She laughed again, and he realized he had said the words out loud.

"Interface, no!" the red sprite cried from the floor. "Fight it, damn it! Fight it!"

"Silly captain," she chastised, "he can't fight his code."

"Whatever you are planning, witch, it won't work," the captain replied. "It's only a matter of time."

Pain made his arms contract around her and the voice burned in his mind again. _Calm, thoughtful planning? I wish we had time. Better get to that User, now!_

"Then we will finish what was started with your father!"

She stepped forward quickly, her hand lashing out across the wounded male's face as Interface collapsed without her support. The burning in his body increased and pulsed as he watched her taunt the injured sprite, her words too soft for him but menacing enough to color the captain's face with rage. Whatever she said was enough to push him over, making him risk deletion when he seized her arm as she attempted to slap him again, quickly spinning her around and looping his arm around her neck, crushing her.

The guards stepped forward but stopped at his threat, "I'll break her neck!"

Time froze for Interface as he stared in fear for the safety of his beautiful companion, but the burning through his body prevented any movement beyond a gasp of pain. He needed to move, he needed to help her, to protect and defend her.

Because that was his format, to protect and defend.

No.

_To mend and defend._

White light flashed behind his eyes, bright and painful. He crumbled over, gasping, his hand reaching up for the icon on his uniform, his hands scraping across nothing but the material of his shirt, until they brushed the black disc at the center of his chest.

_DRAM._

Memory erasure.

_But… failed._

_ Why…_

Unbidden, a flash of a system turning to stone filled his memory bank. _Medusa._

_You, Bob, however, may be immune since you are a Guardian. _

Bob. Not Interface. Guardian. Not slave.

His code was blocking the DRAM… but not completely. His body continued to burn as his code tried to eradicate the new formatting. Something was wrong.

His icon. He needed his icon. He needed Patch… before he forgot everything.

Bob's eyes shot open and he looked up at Blackadder as he held Constantia, nanoseconds having passed while his mind came back into focus. The guards stood at bay while the Captain tried to come up with a plan of escape. The Warden's voice rang out in a soft laugh.

"Well, you've got me. What now, Captain?"

"Release Interface."

"Ok." Her eyes locked on Bob's. "Go ahead, Interface. Leave the woman you love. If you wish."

Bob knew it was a trick, knew the code would make him stay in place, stay with her. His muscles tensed as he felt an overwhelming urge to be close to her again, the initial command of her ownership singing through his veins. Yet his Guardian code kept him aware, and his will as his own… But she didn't know that.

And he couldn't let her.

So he stayed still, his face mimicking confusion for her benefit and Blackadder's.

"That's not what I meant!" Blackadder hissed and pulled at her hair. A painful gasp left her.

Without thinking Bob rushed them. Blackadder was unprepared, stepping back in surprise and defense. The fraction of panic in the Captain's reaction was all Bob needed to dig his fingers into the pressure point along Blackadder's arm, quickly slacking his grip around Constantia; thrusting his knee up into the middle of Blackadder's thigh, hitting another bundle of nerves and rapidly paralyzing the leg. The Captain began to fall and Bob helped him along, slamming his body down into the floor and away from the Warden.

It happened in nanoseconds, and Bob wasn't completely sure he was still in control of himself. Staring down at the stunned sprite, Bob quickly masked his features from surprise to anger. He firmly held him in place.

Behind them, Constantia clucked in disapproval. "Loyalty is so hard to come by, isn't it?" She stroked her fingers through Bob's hair. "Except for me. Should I have him kill you now?"

Bob's heart caught in his throat.

The air was heavy as she considered.

"No," she sighed, "no, now would be too easy." She reached down and retrieved the small disc from his belt and replaced the Manual Syntax Error on a nearby table. "You can wait in your cell; wait and wonder about what is to come." She laughed. "Wait and wonder what I'll have him do to you and your crew.

"Let him up, Interface. You have done well."

Bob stepped away, allowing the guards to haul the sneering sprite to his feet. He met the angry gaze with an indifferent one. "This isn't over," Blackadder said to Constantia. Then he was gone, and Bob was alone with his captor.

Her arms laced around his waist and she whispered into his neck, "Don't worry, Interface, for us, it's just beginning."

He flinched at the two codes raging in his body. His Guardian code kept his mind sharp, and he was repulsed by her affections. The DRAM kept his heartbeat racing at the softness of her voice, surging the undeniable warmth through him to respond. She slowly moved her body in front of his. Smiling, she ran her fingers through his hair and licked her lips. "I want to thank you for protecting me."

Bob's mouth went dry despite his efforts to resist. "I could do nothing else."

"Oh, there's much you can do for me," she countered. Firmly she pushed him backwards. "Let me show you."

His mind raced. He stared at her lips, hauntingly close to his, and he suddenly desired to taste them… like he did when Dot sang to him, putting herself so tantalizingly close. His hands came up on her hips and trailed along the smooth skin of her back, running softly over the clasps of her top, and his fingers flexed to break the material free… like he needed to break out of this prison and return to Mainframe, to help his friends, to help his heart…

He needed to escape.

He needed to run his fingers through her hair.

He needed to help his friends.

He needed to kiss her.

He needed Patch.

He needed _her_.

His legs bumped against the bed, and he was falling backwards onto soft cushions and silken sheets. Her weight fell across his chest, his breath caught, and she was there, warm and soft and alive. Bob had one moment to stare up at her beautiful face, her green eyes shinning-

_Wrong!_

-before her lips met his, and Bob was falling. He grasped her face, pulled her closer, took from her as much as he gave. The blood thundered past his ears and he couldn't get enough of his vixen, his delicious seductress, his Dot.

He gasped and broke the kiss. _What am I doing?_

She continued down his neck, her weight on him making him bite his lip, his mind and body waging war inside his heart. He couldn't resist her without losing his advantage, but it was wrong, wrong, _wrong!_ But the DRAM would make it so easy; he was quickly falling under its cloak of indifference…

_Learn to live with the consequences._

His arms tightened around her as her kisses moved to his chest, her hands drifting up under his shirt.

…_fight with all of your core…_

He had to escape, to get home to Mainframe, to save his family.

_Find something to live for…_

Dot.

…_fight with all of your core…_

He was going to break free of this… whatever it took.

… _and learn to live with the consequences._

He grasped her arms and pulled her mouth to his, claiming it with possessive force. Her moan was lost between them as he rolled her onto her back, his mind cringing while his body pulsated. _I'm sorry, Dot._ Shoving his Guardian protocols to the back of his heart, he let go to the beckoning call of the DRAM, let himself fall further into her embrace, let his actions bring life to the lie.

His only small comfort was in the stray thought that crossed his mind. At least Dot would never know…

_AN: Hi all. I'm struggling with this story, not because I don't want to write it or I don't know where I'm going, but because the fountain is running dry in this fandom. It's hard to stay inspired when there's little stimulation elsewhere. Frankly, the motivation to write this came from my reading Sherlock fanfics. Sadly, there are few similarities between these two fandoms, but at least they've got some good angst over there._

_Here's the deal. I promised myself I would finish what I start. I really want to finish this story… it's just hard right now. So, I can't make any promises when this will get done. I have other stories bouncing around in my head which I really want to write, but I want to finish this first. _

_I'm really going to try. _

_Do me a favor. Wish me luck. _

_Thanks to everyone who's still sticking around!_


	13. Escape

CoP 13: Escape

_ComicFan, AngelFish, Emma: as always, you three are my lifeline to this story. Enjoy. Thank you, also, to those who have added this story to their favorite list, I'm flattered!_

_Present Second – The Web_

The transport shuddered as it was caught in a tractor beam. Bob's eyes snapped open, the dark memories burned away by the view of the Web re-enforced ship they approached. Every so often, a dark shape would fly past into the fiery storm clouds.

Then the cold, damaging realm was left behind as they were brought on board. Little time was wasted as Bob was escorted to a large room, simply decorated and furnished with a small table and plush, comfortable chairs. He turned to find himself alone, the door sealing silently behind the guards. His eyes scanned the room, his ears listening for any attack, but none came. As he walked, something reflected on the table, making Bob pause.

It was small, round and smooth. He stepped closer, his breath tightening in his chest as he recognized the disc. With surprisingly steady fingers, he reached down and retrieved the gold and black Guardian icon.

Phantom shouts of pain and fear filled his ears, distant explosions and weapon fire reverberated through his bones, and the searing pain of the escape drowned out the present as Bob gazed upon the icon.

Patch's icon…

_Past – Villanova_

"How about some wine, my pet?"

It was the perfect opportunity. Constantia had been stretched out beneath the sheets, her eyes closed in contentment. He poured her glass and pulled the small pouch from his pants pocket. Wrapped inside were two small pills, a gift he never saw fit to use until now. He slipped them in the drink and watched them quickly dissolve.

It didn't take long, especially in her relaxed state. With a sigh Constantia fell into the darkness of chemically induced sleep. _Thank you, Patch._ Bob waited only a few moments, staring at the sprite who turned him upside down. The DRAM was still singing loudly in his body, but was now more controlled with out her commands. He didn't know how long his Guardian code would keep it at bay, a thought that was greatly worrying him.

Wasting no more time, he quickly dressed. Taking stock of the room, he grabbed a small pouch from her dresser and emptied the transport keys inside. Along the wall was a row of different firearms. Bob shuddered when his eyes caught sight of the one used to delete Backup. His fist tightened, but he shook it away with a breath. He needed to focus. Grabbing another weapon, he checked the setting. _Good._

Fastening the bag to his pants and gripping the gun firmly in his hand, he made his way for the door. Two guards were standing on the other side, their faces unreadable underneath their face shields. Bob's face was neutral as they both looked at him. He held up the gun. "Take me to the prisoner."

One guard nodded and began walking. The second made to go into the room. Bob stopped him with a hushed, "She doesn't want to be disturbed."

Bob stood calmly though his heart hammered, expecting the game to be up any nano. The guard resumed his stance outside the door, nodding at the other to continue. Bob turned, following him, quietly letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. So far, so good.

It was a brief walk to Blackadder's cell, but it required walking past Bob's old cell, with Patch still inside. The medic's voice rang out as he grabbed at the door, calling for him. He didn't bother to mask the anger or confusion in his voice as Bob ignored him.

Blackadder sat on his bed, staring up with contempt filled eyes. Bob held his gaze for a moment before he gestured for him to stand. Blackadder refused. Bob smiled.

"Pathetic," Blackadder hissed at him. "You're supposed to be stronger than this."

The guard grabbed the red sprite, forcing him to his knees in front of Bob, his head in line with Bob's weapon. "Last words, scum?" the guard asked.

"Drop dead."

Bob smiled again, then obliged. The guard dropped like a stone, his body shuddering as the stun blast shocked him into unconsciousness. Blackadder jerked away from the blast, his arms around his head and eyes wide. He glanced from the guard to Bob who reached a hand out to help him up.

"Well, that was easy."

Blackadder blinked several times. "Interface?"

Bob shook his head. "I'm really starting to hate that name." He barely finished his sentence when he was pulled into a bear hug by the captain.

"By the Net, I thought we lost you!" He pulled back sharply and looked Bob over critically. "How?"

Bob didn't answer, instead leaning down to pull off the guard's keys. "Get his uniform off. We don't have a lot of time to get out of here." He left Blackadder to change as he moved over to Patch's cell and unlocked it. "Are you all right?" he asked the older sprite as he stepped in.

Patch grasped his head and looked closely at him. "Yes, are you? Blackadder told me what happened."

"I'm ok, but my code isn't working fully. I'm still fighting off the DRAM." As if listening to his conversation, a wave of heat crackled through him, reminding him of the constant battle between the codes in his programming. "You still have my icon?" he grimaced.

Patch reached down to his belt to retrieve it, but Bob stopped him. "No, not yet." He shook his head at Patch's surprised glance. "I'm fine for now. I can move freely around here, and I'm not ready to give that up yet."

"You have a plan?"

Bob shook his head. "Not really my area of expertise," he quipped, his heart catching for just a moment. "But we _are_ getting the Dell out of here right now."

"We can make our way the same as before," Blackadder chimed in, the guard's clothes bundled in his arms. "They wouldn't expect us to do the same thing twice."

"But the shield-" Patch began.

"Doesn't exist." Bob explained Constantia's deception, his words softening as he described what happened to Commodore. The tensing of Patch's body didn't go unnoticed.

"Then we break the crew out, get the transport, and go," Blackadder said.

"No." Both Bob and the captain turned to the medic. "Not just the crew. We get everyone out of here." Patch looked at Bob, his face set. "Do you understand?"

Bob frowned.

"We need all of the transport keys."

It took another nano for Bob's face to light up. He nodded as he ran his hand over the pouch. "And we need an escort."

/

It went like clockwork. Patch, donned in the guard's uniform, escorted Bob and Blackadder the prisoner back to Constantia's room. Knocking out the second guard, Patch took his place watching Constantia's chambers as Bob and Blackadder made their way to the control room. Once again using the guise of being under the DRAM, Bob made quick work of the unsuspecting guards in the room. He went to the control panel.

"Bob," Blackadder said from the doorway, the pouch of transport keys now in his possession. "Ready when you are."

"Meet you outside," Bob nodded in return. Then he pressed the panel.

Klaxons went off, Bob quickly moving to silence them, and he took a moment to watch the screens. On every level, all of the cell doors opened at once.

The guards patrolling the levels didn't have a chance.

Bob avoided everyone on his way out to the transport docks. It took him only a few moments to get from the control room, but already Blackadder was putting his men in charge of various transports, heralding whatever sprites they could into the shuttles. The few guards who tried to attack were quickly taken down, save those on the roof at the weapons platforms. Inmates were already making their way up the walls of the prison to take them out.

Then the explosions started. Small projectile bombs were launched from barricades across the compound, landing on the docks and sending sprites flying. One landed near a Web Sprite who was supporting an injured companion. Bob launched himself at the two, pushing them behind an outcropping of the prison as the bomb exploded, sending rock and dust into the air.

Not waiting for gratitude, the Guardian was on his feet again, running towards where he had last seen Blackadder. It was getting hard to determine where he was, now. The air was filled with smoke and his ears rang with explosions, screams, and gun fire. Then the sky lit up and he watched as the Web opened above. Over the clouds, he could see the first transport making its way into the swirling portal.

The clatter of a projectile landing a few meters from him sent Bob sprinting in the other direction. He wasn't fast enough. Bob caught the tail end of the blast, his body lifted up and over in the air. With jarring force, he slammed against a transport and then he was sliding down into that open space between the transport and the pier. He barely had time to scream as he began his descent into oblivion in the emptiness below the prison.

He jerked to a halt, his eyes fixed as he stared at his imminent deletion, a bead of sweat rolling from his chin into the nothingness. Then he registered the crushing grip on his ankle, and he looked up. A WebSprite stared at him then hauled him back up onto the pier. He was the same one he'd helped earlier.

_"Thank you,"_ Bob coughed in WebSpeak.

Before the sprite could reply, Blackadder was dragging him to his feet. "Let's go, Guardian!" he yelled, pushing him towards a transport.

"Where's Patch?"

"Haven't seen him."

Bob ground his feet into the pier, halting them both. "I need to find him."

"No time, everyone's jumping before the Web Creatures arrive!"

Bob shook his head, his hand touching the DRAM. "I need my icon!"

"I'm sure he's on a transport already."

"I have to make sure," Bob argued. "If I lose him..." …_then I'm lost._

Blackadder stared at him, his mouth tightening. "You've got five nanos, then we're jumping, with or without you!"

Bob turned and sprinted like his life depended on it. Had he waited a nano longer, he would have seen Patch running from the prison.

/

He wasn't outside her door, but he didn't expect him to be. He quickly looked around the hall, spotting several guards unconscious, but none were Patch. Armed with his small gun, he quietly opened the door to the Warden's room. Nothing inside looked out of place and his gaze locked onto the bed. The sheets were rumpled… and empty.

Two hands grabbed his shirt and he was roughly pulled inside the room, his body pinned against the wall. A guard, helmet gone and head bleeding, glared at him. Bob reacted, placing his arms up in a posture of surrender.

"Where is she?" he asked frantically, allowing his voice to sound as panicked as he felt. "Is she ok?"

The guard continued to glare until he spotted the DRAM disc. Slowly he released him. "Where have you been?"

"I-"

"Go get that portal closed _now_!" Constantia walked into the room, her body covered in a think black body suit made of some sort of armor, one firearm at her side, another around her ankle, and murder in her eyes. The guard quickly departed and she took one look at Bob.

His body began to spasm as the DRAM came alive when her eyes locked on his. For a moment, everything tilted out of control and then went black. The world came back with a sharp crack of pain, her hand breaking hard across his face. "Where did you go?" she hissed.

"I went to delete that prisoner, as you asked," Bob answered quickly, from his own control or the DRAM's he wasn't sure. "I returned when everyone was let out, I didn't know what else to do!"

Her hand snaked into his hair, pulling it roughly and forcing his eyes to hers. "I never ordered you to do that."

"I thought it would please you," Bob gasped against the pain and the fear the DRAM pushed through him at angering his master. His Guardian code struggled to put him back in balance, a battle he knew he was losing.

She pressed her face close, her eyes penetrating into his. "You thought," she murmured. "I didn't order you to think, either."

Her fist drove into his stomach and the breath left him, his body doubling over from the surprising force of the blow. His eyes lifted to see her arm come down, the butt of her firearm cracking across his face. He collapsed with a cry.

"It shouldn't be possible. You really are strong," she praised bitterly, "and now you are finished." She placed her foot on his chest, holding him down as she aimed her gun.

The weapon fired, the bullet embedding itself into the floor next to Bob's head as Constantia was tackled to the floor. He scrambled up to his elbows, catching his breath and choking down the moan as the DRAM continued to pull him toward the Warden. She was wrestling with the larger sprite until he pulled his arm back and clocked her across the chin. Her head smashed down into the floor, a loud moan bleeding from her into the floor.

The sprite turned and shouted for him to get out. Bob shook his head as he finally comprehended it was Patch holding her down, his body now covered in the familiar blue, gold, and black colors of a Guardian uniform. Bob couldn't help but smirk that his friend had lied about giving up his code… at least completely.

"Stop grinning like an idiot and get out of here!"

Constantia moaned again, a near sob working its way from her throat, and Bob's eyes caught hers. He flinched as the DRAM suddenly took hold when she heard her whispered plea, "Help me." He fought for control, gained it a moment later, but it was too late. She had seen it, and she knew he wasn't completely free.

"Interface, help me!" Patch covered her mouth, but not before she cried out, "Kill him!"

The desperation in her voice clenched Bob's gut, and suddenly his vision was filled with Patch's wide eyed stare at the end of Bob's barrel. "Patch," he heard himself say, "help… help!"

"Take it easy," Patch commanded. He lost his concentration on the Warden, one arm carefully rising in a gesture of comfort toward Bob.

Constantia broke free from the medic's hold on her face and she screamed, "Shoot him, Interface! Kill him!"

"Stay calm!"

"Patch!"

"Shoot him!"

"No… Patch, run!"

"Take back control!"

"Shoot him!"

"Patch!"

_"Shoot him!"_

_ BANG! _

Patch was knocked back, crashing to the floor with a sharp cry that mingled with the Warden's. Both twitched and then lay still.

Bob sat panting, his heart hammering in his chest. _No, no, no!_ "Patch!" He clamored forward, the gun forgotten at his side, his hands searching out to stop the blood flowing from the wound. His eyes couldn't see it. In his panic, he couldn't find the wound!

"You dipswitch."

Bob started and stared at the grimacing face beneath him. "Patch?"

"You forgot you had it set to stun, didn't you?"

Bob's breath stilled, his hand pausing in their pursuit of the wound. He couldn't find the wound… because there wasn't one. A harsh laugh left him, his head falling onto Patch's chest as the adrenaline left him. "Don't do that to me."

"Hey, _you_ shot _me_," Patch groaned. "That thing packs a wallop." He moved to sit up and Bob helped him. "I've missed this suit."

"It looks good on you," Bob quipped, relieved the stun blast was mostly absorbed by the Guardian armor. He glanced at the unconscious Warden, who also took some of the blast. A surge of hatred filled him. He fingered the DRAM disc and desperately wanted his uniform back.

"Patch, I'd like my icon back now, before I do anything else dangerous." The gold and black pattern was a sight for sore eyes for Bob. The cool metal felt comforting against his fingers. With a quick flick of his wrist, the icon was back in its place of honor, and two taps later he was once again adorned in his uniform.

A sharp gasp left him, followed by a deep groan as his world went white then black, muted then loud, balanced then spinning. His body raged with the worst fever he'd ever had and then everything went back to normal. A tiny clatter drew his eyes to the floor, the black disc spinning twice before rolling onto its front and lying still.

Bob took a breath and finally felt like himself again. Only a slight ache could be detected in his muscles, an anomaly he found strange. All other program corruptions he had encountered, such as the Medusa bug, never left him with any sense of pain or discomfort… but that would be something he could figure out later. His Guardian code was back in tact, and he was no longer under Constantia's control.

He took one look at her and shook his head. "Let's go," he said, brushing himself off as he stood. He paused. "My uniform is fixed." All previous tears and tatters were mended, his uniform whole once more.

"You think I only fix sprites?"

Bob smiled as he helped Patch to his feet. "Why am I not surprised?" He walked out the door, ready to make the sprint back to the transport before Blackadder left them. It took him a moment to realize Patch wasn't with him. He turned back and froze.

Patch had Constantia's sidearm and was pointing it at her face.

"Patch, don't."

The medic looked up at him in surprise. "After everything she's done, you want her to live?"

"Deletion doesn't solve anything. She's beaten. Let it go."

Patch stared at him. "You're serious."

"Yes."

Patch took a deep breath, his finger twitching on the trigger. "You're a better sprite than I could ever be." He tucked the gun into his belt and rolled his eyes, his vision coming to rest on a nearby table.

"Patch?"

"Wait." He grabbed the small item from the table and knelt beside her. "A parting gift."

He pressed the item onto her collarbone and tapped it twice. A purple beam encased her body and a stream of data shot through her. Instantly she came awake, her body bowing up from the floor as the manual syntax error disrupted her processor, jarring her into a world of pain and fragmentation. A sharp scream left her and she collapsed back to the floor, gasping.

Patch leaned down, glaring into her green eyes. "Blackadder says goodbye." He stood and walked through the doorway, Bob's hand preventing him from moving further down the hall.

"It will kill her!"

Patch pulled Bob's hand from his chest. "No it won't, she'll repair it before it gets that far. But we'll be gone by then, so let's move."

Bob realized he was right. He nodded. "Nice touch." He flinched as he was splattered in the face. He wiped the liquid from his eyes and wiped his hands on his uniform, barely noticing the dark stain it left. Until he looked again.

He stared at his uniform, uncomprehending the thick blue substance dripping down his face, the trails warm against his skin, the air suddenly tangy with a scent odd and familiar all at once. His hands were blue, his uniform splattered with dark spots all the way up his chest, and Patch's shock mirrored his own when he looked up.

The medic's hands hovered over the gaping hole in his chest, blood seeping down into his uniform, pooling at his feet. He flickered and collapsed.

"Patch!" Bob caught him, his quick eyes locking briefly onto the departing back of the Warden as she crawled away in her room, the gun from her ankle holster still clutched in her trembling hand.

"Go." Patch coughed, using the last of his strength to push Bob away, struggling to stand on his own. "Go before they leave you."

"No." He moved to grab Patch again, but the medic resisted.

"You need to go before… she heals herself."

"I'm not leaving you to die here."

Patch smiled through bloody teeth. "Sorry, my friend, but you don't control me… anymore than she did you. I'll give you the time you need. Now, go!"

Bob didn't budge. He knew Patch was dying, that he would slow them both down back to the transport… but he was his friend, he couldn't leave him, not if there was a chance he could save him.

The older sprite smiled knowingly, his ability to read others still crystal clear on the brink of the death. "You've already saved me," Patch whispered. "Thank you for bringing me home." He breathed heavily but managed a smile. _"Go."_

Bob hesitated a moment longer before nodding. He turned and ran, pushing from his mind the image of Patch stumbling back into the Warden's chambers, feeling for the first time an absolute lack of care if she survived.

The prison was nearly empty save for bodies scattered everywhere, some fragmenting away as he ran past. His heart cringed as he saw some inmates still breathing, though not for much longer, but knew he could do nothing for them now. He needed to get home.

He burst out into the smoky air of the docks, the explosions nearly silenced by the lack of guards available to resist. Sprinting towards the platforms, he could make out two remaining ships. On one he could see Blackadder waving at him, screaming to hurry up. On the other, he could see four guards fighting with two Web Sprites. He sprinted towards the second vessel, attempting to climb up the side. His hands, still wet with Patch's blood, couldn't find purchase. He noticed a fallen guard next to him and grabbed his gloves, quickly donning them and jumping once again on to the side, clambering up onto the top just as it began to pull away.

With his help, the Web Sprites were able to overcome the remaining guards, knocking three of them off with ease. The fourth was lying flat on his back, one of the sprites leaning over him and pulling off his helmet. The sprite lifted him with one arm and tossed him over the side without a second glance, then walked over to Bob.

It took a moment to realize it was the same WebSprite from earlier. The degraded sprite gave Bob the helmet. _"To protect you from the atmosphere."_

Bob smiled. "I'd rather be inside when we go through," he laughed, but he put it on anyway. _"Thank you… again."_

_"I think we are more than even."_ The sprite and his companion moved up to a hatch and began to open it, Bob pausing to look back at the burning fires surrounding the prison. Too many emotions filled him and he broke his gaze, refusing to let himself be overcome now. He took comfort in seeing Blackadder's transport just behind them then turned back to the hatch.

The weight fell on him from behind, smashing his chin into the roof with numbing force. Distantly Bob realized his lip was split on his teeth and then he was struggling with the body on top of him, choking the life out of him. The transport banked as it headed for the Web portal, throwing off the assailant's balance. Both were suddenly tumbling down the side of the roof, the transport righting itself just before both went over. Bob brought his arms up as the guard attacked him, his uncovered face twisted in rage.

Distantly, Bob could see the portal coming closer and knew he needed to act or they'd both be pulled away into the tumultuous atmosphere. He brought a knee up into the guard's stomach and landed a solid right hook across his chin. The guard teetered back, his hand reaching out for anything to prevent his fall. Bob looked back, saw the open hatch right behind him; saw a WebSprite reaching out for him.

The guard's hand grasped Bob's helmet.

Then they were entering the portal.

The force of the atmosphere whipped the guard from Bob's body with a piercing roar, and suddenly the helmet was gone with him. The icy atmosphere hit him like a punch to the face and he gasped involuntarily, and then everything burned. His hands immediately clasped his face, desperately trying to protect it. He felt himself lifted away and knew he lost.

He slammed into the floor; his body feeling like every bone was broken in one blow. The roar died but his ears rang, his body was hot but his face chilled like ice, and then hands were lifting him up and laying him out on something elevated. His couldn't see because his lids were frozen shut and he couldn't breathe steadily around the racking coughs that forced his body off the table.

Mercifully, he tumbled away into darkness.

When he woke, he was wrapped in a thin sheet on a small cot. As he shifted, he noticed it felt cool against his hot skin, almost soothing. His eyes opened and looked around the room. It wasn't familiar to him. He sat up carefully, his head pounding with the movement. After a moment, he was well enough to move again. He took immediate notice of his missing clothes, his eyes widening as he couldn't see his icon on his chest. He tried to remember…

_The Web._

_ The guard._

_ The helmet._

_ The atmosphere._

_ The pain._

_ The darkness._

Bob took a deep breath. He could see, so his eyes weren't damaged. He could breathe, so his lungs were ok. He could move his arms and legs, so nothing broken. How… who…

A door opened to the side, and Bob spotted it for the first time as a WebSprite came in. Not to his surprise, it was the sprite from the pier. No longer distressed by the deformed appearances, Bob barely reacted as the sprite approached his bed. _"Welcome back, Guardian Bob. My name is Phish. How are you?"_

Bob nodded. _"Fine, I think. My icon?"_

The sprite gestured to a small table. The black and gold disc lay next to a glass of water and a mirror.

_"Thank you." _Bob grabbed the glass and took a sip, the coolness feeling good against his parched throat. _"We made it, I guess?"_

_"Yes, unharmed."_ The sprite shifted, seeming uncomfortable. _"For the most part."_

Bob looked at him. _"What do you mean?"_

The sprite took a breath. He seemed ready to speak, choosing instead to point at the mirror.

Bob frowned, his gaze shifting between the reflective glass and the sprite. Seeing the sprite was not going to say anymore, he picked up the mirror.

Bob flinched as he looked at the web of scars on his face, trailing down his neck, disappearing under his blackened hair. A trembling hand entered the mirror, his fingers gently touching the damaged strands as if they might burn him.

_"We did everything we could."_

Bob nodded numbly, his response in basic automatic. "I believe you." His eyes widened in the glass as his hand went to his throat. His mouth worked but no sound came out… until he forced himself to speak again. "My voice…" The tone was wrong, the pitch lower than before, softer and grave. He suddenly seemed tired, and much older.

_"The atmosphere damaged your vocal chords,"_ Phish explained, guessing at what the Guardian was upset about. _"Luckily it didn't do anything more than leave a slight burn on your lungs, and we had something for that._

"Thank you," Bob whispered, distraught by how broken he sounded. He looked up at the sprite, and remembering his company, switched to WebSpeak.

The sprite nodded then gestured at the icon. _"Your uniform has also been degraded, but we uploaded a data file that will protect it from the Web. Your gloves were molded to the uniform, so you will only need a face shield. One is being made for you now."_

_"Again, thank you,"_ Bob answered softly. He put the mirror back, the glass now face down, and stared at the floor. He was alive; he needed to focus on that. He took a breath, pushing away the pain of his new scars. So many scars, inside and out… _"Where are the others? Blackadder and his crew?"_

_"Captain Blackadder is gathering his crew and returning to his home in the Web. He asked us to make sure you got home."_

Bob's eyes shot up. _"He just left?"_ Bob was surprised… and surprisingly hurt.

_ "You have been unconscious for several seconds. He wanted to stay, but members of his crew were still missing…"_

Bob waved the sprite silent. _"I understand." _And he did. At least he kept his promise. He took a breath, secured his icon to his chest, and booted into his warped uniform. It felt heavier, but at least it felt familiar. Carefully he stood, his feet managing to hold him remarkably steady after several days of no use.

_"So,"_ he asked casually, _"how do I get home?"_

/

_"Welcome to the WebRiders. Our home is yours now, for as long as you are with us…"_

_ "Stand down. These are my friends…"_

_ "Oh, Bob, we've found you…"_

_ "Don't worry. She's a Matrix. You survived, I'm sure she'll have found a way to do the same…"_

_ "…I promise."_

_ "By the Net, Dot, I love you!"_

_ "Forgive me…"_

The present came back to her with such force she found herself face first on the floor. She crawled unsteadily to her knees, opened her eyes, and lurched for the wastebasket. She was violently ill, the rush of the memories, the emotions, the trauma Bob experienced too strong and too recent in her mind for her body to handle. Finally her stomach had nothing left to give, and her body collapsed on the floor, shaking and exhausted.

Dot didn't move for several nanos. She spent her time focusing on drawing breath, sweet, life-supporting air. When she felt well enough to open her eyes, she stared at the familiar space of her office, listened to the quiet hum of the equipment, and focused. Her thoughts were ragged, running at maximum speed, but she needed to quiet those. She sat up carefully, cradling her head in her hand. She needed to calm herself. There was too much for her to process just then-

-he slept with her-

-and she heaved again into the wastebasket.

"Stop it," she chastised herself when her body calmed once more. "Be weak later." She ran her hand across her lips, cursing its unsteady movement. She pulled herself into her chair and breathed deep. Inside, she wanted to break down and cry, cry for Bob and for herself and for the sudden mistrust she couldn't deny…

That was unfair, it wasn't his fault…

It really wasn't…

And she was a flesh and blood sprite, not a binary code. Logic just didn't apply…

A sob worked its way up in her throat, and she slammed her fist down on her desk. It eased away and she took another deep breath before she pulled up a VidWindow. Mouse popped into life before her.

"Dot! Are you all right, Sugar? You look terrible!"

"Thanks, Mouse," she commented dryly, clearing her throat to smooth away the roughness. "I'm fine. What's happening?"

Mouse frowned at her for a moment, unsure whether to answer or start her own line of questioning. She chose the former. "AndrAIa and Matrix are ready to leave, Phong has the communicators set up, Mainframe is ready for any and every attack, by Net or by Web, and Bob…"

Dot kept her face neutral. "What is it, Mouse?"

"Bob went into the Web, to her ship."

Dot took a steadying breath. "How are we supporting him?"

"He didn't want any."

"Dipswitch." Dot ran a hand down her face. "All right, send Matrix and AndrAIa, let them get started on assisting other systems. I'll start getting some strategies going here to support Bob. Keep the troops at the ready, we might be drawing some heat into the system."

"Dot, are you sure-"

The Commander left no room for argument. "I'm sure." She caught Mouse's eyes and held them. "And I'm fine. Let's get busy." She watched Mouse nod once before the VidWindow closed.

This I can handle, she reassured herself as she moved over to a small panel and began reviewing battle capabilities against Web technology. She'd only gone a few files in when she heard the door open behind her. Despite her best effort, she couldn't stop the smile as Mouse stepped into the room.

"I told you I was fine," she said, exasperated. "Really, Mouse." She turned to the hacker.

A hand clasped over her mouth. "Wrong hacker," was hissed in her ear.

Dot struggled as the tall man pulled her back out of the office. "The Warden wants to speak with you. Now."


	14. Never Go Home Again

CoP 14: Never Go Home Again

_Emma: Thank you for sticking by me through this, your reviews are always uplifting!_

_ComficFan: I can't help but smile every time you review, your thoughts always leave me contemplating or laughing, and I strive to do better in my writing so I don't disappoint. Thank you!_

_Angelfish: Yes, that has to be one of the longest reviews I've ever received, thank you! Some of the things you mentioned surprised me because you saw a scene a different way than I intended, and the new perspective rounds out the story even more than I imagined! I've wanted to change my writing a bit to leave room for interpretation by the reader, and based on your reviews, I have accomplished that. Thanks for all your support!_

_And to those who have added this to their favorites, as well as everyone who continues to journey along with us, THANK YOU! Hope you enjoy the conclusion!_

The smooth surface of the black and gold icon shone brightly in the light. _You've already saved me. Thank you for bringing me home. _Bob's grip tightened on the icon, his eyes closing as the dull ache of Patch's loss filled him once again.

"Would you like to keep it?"

Bob's eyes slowly opened. He didn't move, merely listened. Slow, measured steps walked up behind him.

"It has no value to me, of course." A silken laugh, soft and deep, filled the room. "But you… well, heroes like you are always so sentimental," the voice whispered in his ear.

Bob applauded himself on not flinching away from her in repulsion, clipping Patch's icon onto his belt instead. "And you're not? Then what, exactly, am I doing here?"

She was quiet, and Bob turned to look at her. Her face was much too close for comfort, but it allowed him to see something working in her mind. She licked her lips then moved away from him to gracefully seat herself in one of the overstuffed chairs. "Since you cared so much for your friend, would you like to know how he died? Or rather," she smiled, "how long it took for him to die?"

He tried to remain stoic, but she caught the tensing of his shoulders, the tightening around his mouth. Her eyes glinted coldly, and he knew she was about to throw salt on the wound. "I wouldn't believe a word you'd say, so why don't we just get to the point? What do you want?"

"You know," she ignored him, "for the longest time I thought that crippled old Guardian was the one who disrupted your DRAM. Imagine my surprise when I realized it was you. Must have hurt to leave a fellow brother behind." Her face turned contemplative. "Though not that much… considering how quickly you left him."

Bob remained silent, his head tilting back slightly, his eyes narrowing He focused on her armament: two swords on her person in place of the guns she wore at the prison, to distract him from her baits.

She looked down to examine a well manicured hand. "If only you knew how long I kept him alive, bleeding him slowly, relishing in his pain, maybe you would have been sprite enough to kill him yourself." Her eyes flashed up to his. "You did have the chance."

Bob took a steady breath, calming himself before he shot an energy beam through her forehead. "What do you want?"

"Hmm, a straight shooter. That's no fun."

"You want fun? Go find a game cube."

"Why don't we just play a game right here?"

The doors behind Bob opened and he turned to watch several guards enter the room, all of them armed. He looked back at her patiently.

"Ooh," she thrilled, "you don't look the slightest bit intimidated. Too few guards to be a challenge?"

"Depends on what we'll be doing."

"Oh, that's easy. Just dance."

They attacked. Bob quickly side-stepped the first guard, grabbing a second and throwing him into two others that charged from the right. Their moves were quick and precise, but limited in the small space the room provided; this left Bob the advantage of only having to fight no more than three at a time.

His training at the Guardian academy and his experience in the games left this to be nothing more than a warm up exercise for him. The number of attackers was rapidly dwindling. Within a few nanos, the fight was finished. Bob hadn't even needed to use his Glitch powers, an advantage he wanted to keep to himself.

He scanned the room once again for any remaining opponents. Satisfied, he looked back at Constantia. She was watching him with a smirk that made him sick to his stomach. She was watching him so carefully, her eyes scrutinizing his every move, he felt like she was cataloguing him.

"Lovely," she said. "And those were my best fighters. So you are clever and well trained in defense and attack. The list of your talents grows. It really is a shame I didn't know before, oh, the fun we could have had. But now that we are heading home, we can make up for lost time."

_Home?_ Bob resisted the shudder as he realized she was taking them back, not that it should be a surprise. Then a thought occurred to him. _Two can play at this game._

"That should be exciting, seeing the old hangout again. Must be awfully lonely, though, without all those sprites and guards to entertain you. I'm surprised you even had this many on hand." He grinned at her scowl. "Really, how did you manage to bribe these poor sprites to stay?" He turned away, feigning interest in the room. "Used those charms of yours, no doubt."

"Oh, I did much more than that," she answered quietly, an edge in her voice. "I made a deal with some… colleagues."

Bob looked back at her, frowning.

"I understand the value of connections as well as anyone else, and I understand the position of power in those connections."

"I doubt you're at the top of that chain. Without your prison, you had nothing to bargain with." The stillness of her body clued him into his statement hitting home. "So what power could you possibly have now?"

She scoffed. "For as clever as I think you are, you can be pretty stupid."

Bob thought for a moment. Then he laughed. "You mean me."

She smiled.

"Yeah. Obviously, you're not so smart, yourself."

"What?"

"I can think and I can fight, and that's about it. I don't even have a keytool," he lied. "Just how powerful do you really think I can be?"

"It's not what you can do, handsome, it's what you're worth." She leaned forward at his silence. "Your friends have made quite a mess of the Net, you know. There are many who would kill to lay their hands on one of those precious few meant to 'mend and defend.' Funny," she mused, "I had a live one in my hands not too long ago… too late I realized just how valuable he could be." Her eyes flicked up to his. "But now I have you, and I'm well prepared to share you with the highest bidder."

Bob felt his blood run cold.

"That was the deal," she drawled, "guards and slaves for me, and playtime with you. Now that I've seen how well you can fight, I can up the bidding price, make myself a little extra pocket change. But don't worry, they're not allowed to delete you. Just… play. And if you resist, Mainframe falls to the Guardians and their little infection."

Bob's fingers twitched, the Glitch part of him aching to throw something, anything, to wipe the smug grin off her face. His breath caught when he realized he could do that… he could end everything right then. Unconsciously he fingered the icon he placed on his belt. That's what Patch would have done.

"Do tell me what you're thinking," she purred. "I've missed our chats."

"What's to stop me from deleting you right now?"

Her eyebrows shot up but her smile didn't falter. "Really, Darling, I'm surprised. We've been over this before. The hero just can't bring himself to hurt others… even the bad guys." She settled more fully into her seat. "We both know you don't have it in you. You're no Patch."

Bob flinched, dropping his head. He remembered the medic's words, pushing him to understand that sometimes deletion was the only way… they melded with Matrix's harsh remarks about doing his job, about being sprite enough to do whatever was necessary. He thought of Dot, and how he was sure he'd hurt her, showing her what he'd done to get home.

In Villanova, he had no problem with going against his code and his own morals to trick Constantia. He'd left behind a wounded Guardian to ensure he got home to save his system. His inability to even consider the possibility of losing got Backup deleted; his blinding trust in the goodness of others caused great pain and suffering in his home when he trusted the viruses to help save Mainframe. What if he had just deleted them all from the beginning…

After everything he'd seen, after everything he'd _done_, how could he still cling to his beliefs that deletion was absolutely, unforgivably wrong?

"Sprites change," he murmured.

"But not heroes."

"You're probably right." He looked up, met her eyes calmly. "But I'm not a hero." His body hummed as he felt Glitch working through him, a gold ball of light forming in his right hand with a flick of his wrist. He watched her eyes widen at the display of power, unpredicted in her mind, and unprepared for her to plan against. When she looked back into his eyes, he took no satisfaction at the small amount of panic in her green gaze.

It was a comfort that he would not enjoy this moment, now or ever.

"You will regret this," she said.

"I doubt that." He lifted his arm.

"Then a die for a die." Her eyes moved beyond him.

Bob hesitated. The doors opened and he heard heavy footsteps, dragged feet, and an angry shout, "Get off of me!"

_No…_

"Bob!"

He turned, his eyes locking instantly onto Dot's, and he tried to hide the pain from his face as a tall, mean looking sprite pressed a gun to her head. She looked unharmed, at least. He breathed, but didn't drop his arm.

"Go ahead, Bob," Constantia taunted from the chair, the feral grin back on her face. "Let see how quick you can be. Are you fast enough to kill your enemy and save your girl?"

Bob's eyes jumped back to the Warden's. He waited only a moment longer before the ball of energy dissipated in his hand.

"Yes, I didn't think so either." She stood and walked over to Dot, pulling her from the male sprite's grasp and wrapping an arm around her throat. "Oh, it's so nice to have insurance." She stroked the side of Dot's face lovingly. "Though I do hate it when other people use my things, I see this one still has her uses."

"Leave her alone," Bob growled, stepping closer.

"Ah, ah." The Warden pulled a sword from her back and held it across Dot's chest. "Wouldn't want the Commander here to get all scratched up."

"You won't."

"Feeling risky, Guardian?"

"You said it yourself," Bob mocked, "she's your insurance. You hurt her and there's nothing to stop me from hurting you."

Constantia sighed. "Sometimes you are too smart for your own good. But you are right. So now my assistant will escort you to your cell while Miss Matrix and I have some time for girl talk." Her head dipped close to Dot's. "And I'm sure there's much we'll find we have in common. How does that sound?"

"Nauseating," Dot hissed.

"Oh, a firecracker, I love it. And such a strong personality. Tell me: how does it feel to be so helpless?"

Dot's eyes caught Bob's. "I wouldn't know." With a quick thrust of her arm, she rammed her left elbow into Constantia's ribs while bringing her right hand up to grab the wrist holding the sword. Using the Warden's moment of weakness to break out of her choke hold, Dot stepped out, spun, and flipped the red headed sprite onto her back. Dot easily pulled the sword from her limp fingers and brandished it over her exposed throat.

Bob wasted no time in turning his attention to the male. His companion expected this, the gun already trained on the Guardian. "Well, there's a hull breech waiting to happen."

The sprite hesitated, uncertain, and Bob smacked the gun away, swinging with his left for a solid hook to the head. The sprite ducked and uppercut Bob right off the floor, sending the Guardian sprawling onto his back. For a moment, he saw stars, and then he was being picked up and thrown across the room by the tall, and apparently insanely strong, sprite. He crashed into the table, groaning. _This isn't going as planned._

Dot looked up when Bob hit the table, and Constantia swung her leg around, knocking the smaller sprite on her back. Both rolled to their feet, the Warden pulling out the second sword on her person, and the two circled each other. Constantia swung first, Dot parried, and managed to slide their blades to the right enough for her to swing back and slice the Warden across the forearm.

The taller sprite gasped and twisted away, her eyes flicking down to the thin line that appeared. "Look at that, little girl's got some skills."

"Shut up." Dot lunged.

Bob was finding it difficult to breath with the sprite's arms clamped around his throat from behind. He considered blasting them both with his Glitch power, but he wasn't sure how his body would take that. He wrestled to break free, digging his feet into the floor in preparation to launch them back against a nearby wall. As if guessing his next move, the sprite leaned back on his heels, pulling Bob off his feet. All his weight came to rest on his throat against the sprite's thick forearms, and spots were beginning to blur his vision. His legs kicked out for something, anything to push against…

And then he remembered he could fly. Focusing his ability to levitate, he lifted them up and pushed, sending them back against the wall as quickly as possible. They both hit hard, the sprite taking the force of the blow, and collapsed to the floor in a heap. With the sprite stunned, his grip slackened and Bob turned to bring down a hard punch across his face, knocking the sprite to the floor. He didn't move again.

Bob lifted his head at the sound of clashing swords, surprised to see Dot matching Constantia blow for blow, their faces set as they tried to out do the other. Bob recalled Dot's skill in one of the medieval games they played, but this time she displayed real skill, as if she'd been studying. It took only a nanosecond for him to recognize her form, and he couldn't help but smile.

It looked like Dot and Mouse had bonded more than he suspected.

Suddenly, Constantia thrust out a low kick that knocked Dot down to one knee. A flick of her wrist sent Dot's sword across the room, and then she was swinging her arm up and around, threatening to bring it down on Dot's arm raised in defense, preparing to return Dot's cut with one of her own.

"No!" Bob shouted, his arm reaching out as the energy built up into his palm.

The Warden shuddered as the bullet ripped through her stomach, her gasp of pain mingling with the echoed gun shot. She stared down in surprise at the green sprite, one arm protecting her head, the other holding the small gun that had been holstered against her leg.

For a nanosecond, no one moved. Then Constantia whispered, "You bitch." A scream left her she brought down her sword to cut the Commander down.

Dot fired again into her chest and the Warden collapsed back against the floor, sword scattering away, her panting breaths becoming slick as her lungs filled with blood. She stared at the fallen woman until Bob's worried face filled her vision. She was pulled to her feet and dragged away from the dying sprite before being crushed against him.

"Are you all right?" he asked urgently.

"Yeah," she huffed, her arms still at her side with the weight of what just happened. "Yes, I'm all right." She was pushed away and Bob stared at her, his hands cupping her face. Clearly he didn't believe her and she laughed lightly. "Really, Bob."

"You shot her."

"So I did."

"Twice."

"You noticed that."

"Dot, I-," Bob swallowed, and she could see guilt in his eyes.

She grabbed his arms and held him still. "Bob. I know you have a problem with deletion."

His eyes fell.

"But I don't." She smiled kindly, taking away any malice the words may have left. "She's not my first, Bob, and I doubt she'll be the last." Her eyes suddenly dropped to the floor, unable to meet his. "You're not the only one with secrets."

"I'm sorry."

Dot placed her hand over his and squeezed. "I know, Bob. Let's go home."

"Never again."

Bob and Dot turned. Lying in her own pool of blood, Constantia smiled sickly at them, the insanity in her eyes fading with her last breaths. In her hand, she clasped the gun belonging to her assistant, and she pointed it at them. "No one gets to go home anymore."

Bob pulled Dot close and threw a shield around them as she fired, but the bullet wasn't aimed for them. It pierced the wall, metal cracked, and the Web's atmosphere yanked the air from the room. Bob barely had time to grab onto a beam when the suction began. One arm clamped around Dot, the other digging into the narrow beam on the wall, Bob watched as light objects were pulled into the atmosphere, and larger objects slid across the room toward the vacuum. Suddenly they were pulled horizontal as the vacuum increased in pressure.

Both sprites watched in horror as Constantia's prone form was dragged across the floor and then lifted into the air towards the tiny breech. Bob's eyes clenched shut while Dot pressed her head into Bob's chest as the sprite was ripped through the opening. The assistant went next, the sound of his smashed body luckily drowned out by the roar of the atmospheric turbulence. Within nanoseconds, all of the guards had been lifted and compacted out of the breech, the wall turning bright blue in color.

"User, Bob, we're next!" Dot screamed. "Can you fix it?"

"Can't hold you and repair it!"

"Then let me go!"

"No!"

One of the chairs flew up against the wall, the suction suddenly gone until the atmosphere won, widening the hull breech minutely. More furniture was pulled out into the deadly atmosphere, their shapes breaking apart against the force.

"If we can widen that gap, I can protect us outside until we find a tear!" Bob shouted at her.

"Will we find a tear?"

_If we don't get eaten by something first,_ Bob thought.

"Can you blast the ship?"

"Won't be fast enough!"

Dot thought rapidly. She squinted through tear filled eyes as the wind attempted to blind her, searching for anything that could help them. She saw pieces of equipment mounted to the far walls.

"Can you find a tear in here?" Bob didn't answer her. She opened her mouth to ask again when he cut her off.

"Light fixture, top left corner, near the door!"

Dot tried to focus her sight on the location. When her eyes caught the light, she pulled her gun and fired. The bullet didn't make it before it was sucked back out into the atmosphere.

"Damn!" she grimaced. She tried again with the same result.

Then one of the doors was torn from its hinges and smashed against the breech, ceasing the vacuum for only a nanosecond.

The bullet shattered the fixture and a blue tear lit up the room in its place. The door snapped into multiple bits and was sucked out, the tear right behind it. As it passed through the small opening it destroyed the metal it touched, increasing the size of the breech considerably.

"Hold on!" Bob screamed and let go, allowing them both to be sucked out into the dangerous atmosphere. They surged forward at an impossible speed, Bob creating a portal just before they were thrown into the tear's energy and deleted. They broke the portal's surface and were flung across the War Room. As one, they bounced and rolled across the floor before crashing to a halt against the Mainframe Detail Panel.

Both sprites opened their eyes to a clamor of activity around them, their ears slowly regaining their proper usage as the echoes of the roaring Web atmosphere died away. Neither could really make out what was being shouted at them, but the two didn't seem to care. Bob stared up at Dot as she lay across his chest, her arms still tightly linked around his neck. She didn't seem particularly eager to move. Neither did he.

/

They were forced to part when being examined by Phong, but hovered close when they explained the events leading up to their surprising arrival. Dot didn't say much, only filling in when she mentioned her kidnapping after her conversation with Mouse. She shuddered when Bob told them Constantia wouldn't be back. No one asked for details about what happened between Bob and the mysterious sprite, and neither she nor Bob were forthcoming. All that mattered was she would bother them no more. For Dot, as pleased as she was at not dealing with that psycho, she couldn't erase the memory of the gore…

She was brought back to the present as she was handed a communicator that would also serve as a timer regarding the portal generator for AndrAIa and Enzo. Phong confirmed that Bob would need to create a portal within the next microsecond. When Dot asked about Enzo and AndrAIa, she was informed that they had not seen any trouble yet, but they sent back word that Captain Capacitor and his crew had not been heard from in cycles.

The danger of their mission began to creep up on Dot, and as the others discussed their next move, she excused herself to her office. Once seated at her desk, she couldn't help but feel deflated by everything that had happened to her in so short a time. Her body sagged in the chair as her mind attempted to shut down for a moment, to process and catalogue everything that she had seen and heard, to recharge her batteries before the next big fight.

"Will this never end?" she muttered into her hands. The pain, the violence, the chaos and the destruction… why did this all have to happen to them, to her and her loved ones?

She thought of her father, recognizing that final moment of his life was when everything started to fall apart… even when Bob came to be Mainframe's Guardian, everything was still crumbling away…

"Dot?"

Her head jerked up and she watched Bob close the door behind him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

She sighed and looked down. "No, it's ok. My mind is just… everywhere but here."

They were both silent, the room suddenly tense with unspoken doubts and fears. Dot figured why Bob had come in… and she felt herself tense up in dread. He took a breath to speak, but she dove ahead first. "No."

"Sorry?"

She looked back up at him. "Bob, I… I know we need to talk about what happened… but I don't think I can right now." Her hands came together on the desk, clasped so tightly her fingers were losing feeling. "I know why it happened, Bob, but I can't… User, I just can't. Not right now."

He lowered his head. His hand traced a pattern on her desk, but he didn't ask her to explain. He knew perfectly well what she meant. And there was nothing he could about it then.

When she thought the silence would drive her insane, he spoke. "After Daemon?" he asked softly.

Dot inhaled. _Go ahead, Dot, put your life on hold again until after the next big crisis. What a good little sprite, keeping your priorities straight._ She flinched at her own self-mockery. It amazed her that everyone seemed to look up to her as this brave leader, and here she was running from the sprite who suffered for her.

But she couldn't run the system while her emotions ran her. She nodded, and answered, "Yes. I-"

But Bob was already turning away from her, making his way to the door.

Suddenly her heart was in her throat, and the thought of him walking out scared her more than anything. Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, halting him and pulling him back with urgency. He turned in time to see her stand and throw her arms around his neck, pressing herself firmly against him.

She held back her tears as his arms crossed around her back, returning the embrace. He spoke her name, but she couldn't listen to him yet, not with her heart slowly breaking. "It hurts, Bob," she quickly cut in, "but don't… you can't… just… just don't leave again. Okay?"

She bit down on the lump in her throat when he squeezed her closer, and he whispered in her ear, "I promise."

They stayed that way for a few more moments before Dot regained control. She slipped away from him; her eyes suddenly shy to meet his, and sat back down in her chair. She typed something onto the screen while Bob seemed to watch her. Then, as quietly as he came, he left.

Dot closed her eyes, a great sigh leaving her and a shuddering breath filling her lungs. Would it always be this hard? She supposed not… she did love him, after all. And everything he did was to get home, to get back to her… but why did it have to hurt so damn much?

Because she loved him so damn much. And now she felt betrayed…

She leaned forward and rested her head on her arms. Now was not the time to sort her personal feelings. She had to focus for the fight against Daemon, the Supervirus. Her system, her friends, her family depended on it.

Instead she drifted off to a time when things were good, when she didn't know pain or suffering. No viruses, no Guardians, no fighting, just her home; only Enzo and the Diner and her father getting ready to prove the impossible: the existence of other systems with his ingenious invention, the gateway command…

_Thank you again for reading! Any further stories will likely have an M rating, so make sure to set your rating to "ALL" in the future. Stay frosty!_


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